thousands of stories written and unwritten,
of the glass-coffin princess
to bloodshed on gravel streets,
stories with endings, others fading with time.
the transition from Life flitting through the air
with wings of Hope
to Death stalking across mowed lawns, paved roads
with boots of Grief.
timelines across spindly threads
trembling under the force of my vibration –
red strings have unwound and tangled
with my Touch.
Was it pity or simply cruelty? –
Fate wound her arm around me,
bestowed upon me Death’s blessing,
I became Persephone.
I am a Goddess who is not a god,
for mortality is envious of immortality
but immortals is wishes for mortality
and, my words may reek of falsehood or sting with truth,
i hope for the End.