Autumn is my favorite season,
Leaves blazing like multicolored
Wings of Seraphs on trees
As they play up in that ceiling
Of Heaven.
The wind always brings a hint
Of something colder.
Like swallows must go home
As the wind brings chill,
Persephone must return
To Hades.
This is punishment
From a mistake she made
Forever ago, pomegranate seeds
Grown bitter; an aftertaste
We all suffer from
After autumn passes.
Until then, feathers
Of Seraphs litter the earth
So that when Persephone descends
Into Hades, she has
A flaming blanket of crimson,
Sienna, burnt and raw
On which to step upon
Along her long descent
To a cold and hollow slumber.
D.H. Lee
(via Swanksalot)