She was just a young goddess
About what modern people would call a "teenage girl"
Running through a field of lotuses,
Her white dress lapping at her legs
Her golden hair whipping in the wind

Her friends, they call out
"We'll be asleep. Don't wander so much,"
She reassures them she'll be fine
With a smile and a nod, they rest in the field of flowers.

Flowers catch the young goddess' eye
Appealing with its bright colors
And lovely shape,
She thinks, Who could resist such beauty?

For the answer is none,
Maybe not even the wisest of mortals
She bends down, the flowers poking at her covered thighs
It's a bright flower, just like the blue skies

Proserpina, our lovely and innocent goddess, she picks until her heart's content
Flower after flower.
One is gone, another shows up, and so goes to the cycle.

She's gone too far, but Proserpina doesn't know that
She's about to sit and inspect these lovely flowers that she has picked
When there's a rumble below the earth.
Alarmed, she recoils, ready to break into a run

The ground opens up, a man in armor
This is the one they call Hades, God of the Underworld
Proserpina, alarmed, cannot see his face for it is pallid
Pale and sunken, but that doesn't matter now.

Hades, with his might, grabs the young goddess, who is screaming for help that she does not receive

Help! I am being abducted, but why me, a goddess,
When there are plenty of mortal women?

Proserpina doesn't know the workings of a god's heart, no,
Especially one who's her father's brother.
She's taken down under,
Where death rules and ghosts go by, like some sort of dead city
Inhabited by soulless spirits

Proserpina, it seems, will not be seeing her mother or the land above in
Quite a while, but Proserpina, soon she will not care.

Ah, to be young, and to be a goddess.