Goddess of the Seasons

In fragrant fields of flora, she wandered serenely, the breeze tenderly blowing her silken robes, her movements fluid as the ocean, exquisite epitome of swan-like grace. The scent of pomegranates upon the air kindled the fires of passion within Hades' heart, inciting incestuous desire for her beauty, utter perfection of form and face. She sang as an angel, mid a choir of birdsong, rosebuds blooming beneath her tread, evoking wistful sighs from young men's lips, with the charm of innocence and virginal seduction. Hades regarded her lustfully, his fever rising, passion causing wildly through his veins, his yearning to taste her blossoming virtue, his mind crazed by the thought of abduction. Up from the bowels of the earth he burst forth, chariot blazing, a fearful sight. She tearfully trembled as he stole her chastity and carried her to the underworld to be his bride. When finally her mother found her distraught, she plotted to free her from her uncle's world, but he fed her the seed of the juicy pomegranate that she agreed for half a year to remain at his side. Hence was the birth of the seasons turning, half of dark, Demeter's grief, pining for her child, and half of golden light, their joyful reunion, when crops flourish from the sun's vibrant rays. Persephone, queen of the underworld, though a goddess of plenty, ripe with abundance, showing us that life has its winter, dark with chill, till spring awakens, bringing forth sweeter days.