The Words Which Weave Our World - Persephone and Hades

In a kingdom built of blood and bone,

The blackened queen rests upon her throne.

And above, in a palace of stone and stars,

The foolish king lies behind bars.

On the throne of thorns, hidden in the shadows,

There is a bloodstained queen who rules the gallows.

Once there was a child of spring,

Who caught the attention of the dead king.

Her skin like copper and pitch-black hair,

Caused Hades himself to declare:

“This girl is mine! She is my bride!

For she is beauty itself, personified!”

And Demeter’s daughter, herself unknown,

Seized the chance for her to stand alone.

On the throne of thorns, hidden in the shadows,

There is a bloodstained queen who rules the gallows.

Persephone, pitiable Persephone.

Of her mother’s influence, she’d never be free.

She had only been known as the daughter of Demeter.

But now she would become something better.

Persephone was an ambitious soul,

And soon, the Underworld would be hers to control.

All she had to do was dethrone the death god,

And maintain her sweet and innocent facade.

On the throne of thorns, hidden in the shadows,

There is a bloodstained queen who rules the gallows.

Hades brought her into his realm,

On a chariot of skeletal horses, with him at the helm.

His soon-to be betrothed substantially distraught,

Or so the doomed, disgraced god had thought.

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She was offered the kernels of red fruit

And took it with fingers dusted with soot.

Her kidnapper looked on with greedy eyes

As his captive secretly planned his demise.

On the throne of thorns, hidden in the shadows,

There is a bloodstained queen who rules the gallows.

Twelve pomegranate seeds, and Persephone succeeds.

For Hades would pay dearly for his misdeeds.

Demeter’s wrath would leave the world cold,

And Zeus had had the law to uphold.

The king of the Underworld was brought to the face the light.

Zeus struck him down, to Persephone’s delight.

For now, the throne was unoccupied,

And she herself would be deified.

On the throne of thorns, hidden in the shadows,

There is a bloodstained queen who rules the gallows.

The new lady of the dead ruled with an iron fist

And required neither advisors, nor assist.

The ancients feared even speaking her name,

Or hell would drag them into it’s unholy flame

In a kingdom made of blood and bone,

The blackened queen has earned her red throne.

And above, in the palace of stony stars,

The deposed king cries behind bars.

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THE END

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