Proserpine

The poetic side

Of loneliness,

Cold winds

Above the beloved Greece.

Flowers are attractive

But they lead to detention.

Your life is torn into two,

You see the darker,

The stronger side of yourself,

That crystallizes

In your warm nest.

While all the rest

Enjoy the sunlight,

You fall asleep

Among piles of gold,

And your sad beauty

Will never get old.