In a random search for content to post here, I came across this book. I think I might need to read more. This is a sample poem provided.
Black rose in the vision; with tormented eyes,
And fortitude most desperate and divine
She fronted Him from whom the fearful priest
Averts his face at the black sacrifice,
Whose name is never spoken, and whose rites
Are secret, and with whispering horror done.
She saw the horses and the chariot,
She felt the mighty, and the restless clasp,
And knew her valour vain. As men at arms
Hold honour above all, dishonoured die,
So she, whom fear alone could never tame,
Struck by the thunderbolt of insult fell,
A senseless prey. The brazen hooves retreat,
Earth closes in and sighs; the broken turf
Unites, and save the headlong-fallen trees
And the girls weeping in the sorry rain,
No trace remains to mourn Persephone.
Poem by Ruth Pitter