Oh Zeus.
Never could I truly then tolerate what kind of imprudence your Highness has been performing. Truthfully do you have my mocking applause, for letting such futility blossom by a mere caress. Ruins did your empire become with a demolition obstructing your woman to rise for the flames you have cast on the pyre of marriage she is tied. Have you thought of this through?
Alas, must I ask of it? To when you are to only care to what legacy you are to give upon your kingship?
Demeter's orbs could only perhaps become the blank canvas, bearing her Queen's angst. To witness such a flora amongst the field with only the grass to reside, must the man to whom graced with its beauty step onto it, as though it were a bug pinched by the sole of his feet, certainly then left alone to whether rise once more or end his breathing with a kiss from Death.
Languishing to bearing perhaps now a child without a father, she concerns herself furthermore to the cries of a woman in angst by the infidelity of her man who ravaged her too.
Could a woman liken of her, to whom bears his seed within her womb, may be of comfort? An image would she be now of what treason committed as to while the crowned lady would be perhaps, postponing retirement, letting not exhaustion take her soon by their bed?
With gaze unfaltering to the sight, arms yearning to have her little sister close against her frame, to then settle her lips against her crown and let the Regent rest by her side, shoulders to serve as the foundation to be able to stand once more, Demeter is truly hindered. Attempting to reach her senses, all onto the tormented sweet her Queen is, even though there is little she could and must do, may the wind be gentle, harsh only to her.
If only there could be just more time. To then scheme an exit to the assault. To retreat from the narratives, having not the limelight of it all to what had happened, truly could I not let my tears fall nor waste them, gardening gently the benefit of being pitied. Victim must never be a word to her legacy, rather a survivor.
Concluding it all, assessing every paragraph to be offered soon by poets who gives depth to their faith, Hera is the damsel, crying with sorrow that would inevitably grow worse, whose frame would perhaps then come about and be buried upon weeping three rivers deep.
Oh Hera.
Reminiscing soon there bond, to where Helios would become a witness with the relationship offered by two ladies under his ray, to which such sweet rose would go on and on upon her dream of a lovely marriage. To read letters that would built her home with him, wishing not of palaces or of the glory for what there purpose they may be of to when both party could not be blissful?
Damn it all, I say. How had the Fates been so cruel? Bestowing me now of a child to when it is she who wishes to have one? Liken of children are they, only then to witness the other receive a sack of charcoal when she had been the one believing to such myth?
He sickens me.
Pressing her heels towards the man who then, with arrogance, worshiping himself with the luxuries of arrogance as to while his darling lovebird, anguished now without the will to even hope, scarring what devotion supposed to be. Eyes no longer embodying the gentle landscape by the sunset, the lady whom would only pick daises for the banquet be splendidly symmetrical by the beauty is no more.
Blessed is he with the best wife. Hera, to whom would one shall play the cards of conflagration to have.
You do not deserve her.
With no cordiality to properly introduce what guest there is before him would the lady, enraged of the imprudent manner of the man who indulge himself with glory, bitten was the lower fold of her lips, condemning what madness there is within her, Demeter soon reached out with his bare name;
"Zeus!"
Taken aback, his features soon were unpleasantly sketched.
"Would you then be here to pay gratitude?"
"Pardon?"
"You seem to have favored what we have. Tell me, are you here then to take more?"
"Your Grace, as much as I would then prefer to hold my tongue out of at least, a speak of decency to your foolishness..."
"Had you not craved for a child? And have you not been given with it by your king?"
"Twisted are you with your given self-image painted by your pride. Perhaps would I live now with a child to then be affectionate with, parting now from the thought of you raping me considerably to feed your lust liken of a pig, nonetheless, would what we have performed upon that night, have you not thought of your Queen?"
"A pig, madame? Perhaps it is you, who are the beast fond to be slaughtered."
"I beg your grace to then locate his rationality. Insensitive are you. To leave her weeping while you place yourself luxuriously upon a throne you could have not attained if it were not of our help!"
Pausing to redefine her composure, rendering once more the image of the sorrow newly painted, hatred still is in its peak.
"I am not here for you, Zeus."
"Demeter, you speak of…"
"Holistically do I know her liken of how I identify myself without hesitation. Truly within the life infinitely bestowed to your grace would you locate not a woman who would be as trusting or as kind. And as she would spoke unto me with her lips to be read that you are hers, would I then retreat and sacrifice for our child knows not the fulfillment of having some kin she may rightfully claim hers. To then raise our child without a father just so this fruit come about as a mistake in your sight!"
Silenced by the motion offered by a woman, though frenzied with his lack of intuition of having the instance disclosed by means, perhaps of pleading to the merciful Queen, the lady of nature carried further her case;
"Blunt is she not of her words yet they are all upon how to salvage what relationship you both have. Clearly must you lose not of the sight that you have been granted with the grandest wife of all known woman and to us, the best thing there is.
She may perhaps soon say a proposal of rekindling the flame of your devotion yet knew too well that there would be none to fight for. To then apologize when she committed no harm against you. To say she misses you but would rather remain silent, letting you take your share beside her, knowing it would all go down in a spiral once more. To say never to leave her alone or that the yearning of her arms would make her miserable yet knows well that it would just be an illusion…"
Blessed are you with a heart liken of a falling water, reaching no limits with its compassion steaming by every movement, Demeter. Unfortunately, though I may speak of my devotion would commitment be attending not the said speech for non-existent would that word be. Selfish would I be yet the temptation of being liberated considers not of the woman who remains loyal behind all known faults I am placed onto to an extent my given guilt is conscious of how I would rather abuse the goodness her spirit would have in contrast to mine. To where a mere kiss would sent my Queen to jubilee, sending the skies to pacify without performing proper justice. I love her yet not like how she loves me.
"And so would I be here to afar from your Grace, never by then to entertain him…"
"Are you declaring your own excommunication before your King? Who would be the only entity fit of ordering you, woman?"
"Temporarily, yes. I am only choosing my sister's, our Queen, happiness over mine, every second am I given with an option. For her by then to be comfortable of having her wedded husband all to herself for our bond is tarnished by your sin. I forbid you then to be of any assistance with her birth and growth and should I be presented with your dwelling near mine would there be fury left unspoken of."
To it would the woman flee, tears no longer able to reside beneath her sight, sprinting herself afar with then the child they have. Yet before the disclosing of the door could the King hear her plea.
"Give her the best life there is, Zeus."
I will try.
"Promise me."
I could not. I am sorry.
Author's Note: If somehow you are perhaps bewildered would it be foremost at the perspective of Demeter before it will go to Zeus. Somehow do I have this canon that Demeter was the foremost woman ravaged by Zeus [not to speak of those he flirted with considering of his polygamous feature] after his marriage with Hera. There are no accounts that I have encountered to where Hera punished Demeter, hence I may say that somehow she was more onto the sorrow before it would turn into the madness we all know she is popular of.
For my new readers, the given italicized form would be of their thoughts. My apologies if they are found confusing.
