• Persephone, I love thee

    Oh woe is thee, Persephone
    Who taketh from the fruit
    The gems of pomme'grate, the seeds
    To suit your daily needs

    Oh woe is thee, Persephone,
    Six months with the below
    The lustre in thine eyes, I see
    Six times alone with me.

    Oh woe is thee, Persephone
    I seek you as my own
    If you should forget the pink-jewel smell,
    Then woe is I, as well.