iv. Persephone
who among you
has not called me foolish?
"she brought the blackness of the underworld
upon herself," I hear you
whisper behind your fluttering hands.
you color my lips red
with imagined sins. you picture my palace
a cave, my king an unending shadow.
do you know nothing of the dark?
have you yourselves never banished it
effortlessly
with nothing but a match? then surely,
you must understand;
my strength does not fade as the summer fades,
as the light wanes.
I am no captive.
I am the rightful queen.