I will not go,
I will not go,
though you plead me, pleading low.
Though the church bells in their ringing
heaven promise, angels singing.
I will not tell,
I will not tell,
though I know the story well.
Though my heart in silence waning
beats a tune, my conscience
staining.
Come with me,
Come with me,
take me down to that dark bower.
Past the Styx and past the tower,
there it blooms
Persephone’s flower.
Ah, there we’ll rest
’til Earth’s last hour.
By: Elizabeth Esther
October 2, 2011
