Title: Orpheus Returns To The World
First poem I've written in a really long time; I did it this morning during study hall. It's rather a different format than the one to which I am accustomed.
~ ~
Orpheus walks towards the light, each
footstep a solemn, aching toll. Behind
him he hears the faintest whisper
of cloth, the suggestion of another
traveler.
Does the ground pass under his feet? He
fights the urge to turn towards the queen
of death, who bids him a somber,
melancholy farewell. How long gone is
sweet Persephone? But he dares not
look. For lesser pleasures did she
surrender.
His feet move steadily. Under his
breath he counts the cadence, gives
it beat, gives it measure. His fingers reach
for the lyre strapped to his back. They
struggle with a knot, then return
to his side. No music.
It cannot have been long. His
breath comes evenly as ever, and
his forehead is day. He can't hear
a breath behind him, but never was she--
His hand reaches out to lie flat on
the side of the wall.
He stands still, straining his ears,
silent as a god's breath. What
he hears, he is unsure, terrified, and
the cadence of his footsteps, still
echoing through his mind, fights
and clamors against his
heartbeat.
He turns around, and beautiful,
solemn Hades leans forward
to close his eyes with gentle fingers. "Go home,
Orpheus," he says, in a voice to make the world
weep itself into slumber. "You are not for
here."
Turning away, stumbling up the
passage, and it seems as though
the ground races to bear him into
the world, Orpheus returns blindly
into the world.
~ ~
Comment, please? Acknowledgment is helpful right now.
I've been listening nonstop to The Bachelor lately. I'm so obsessed with it right now.
~ ~
Orpheus walks towards the light, each
footstep a solemn, aching toll. Behind
him he hears the faintest whisper
of cloth, the suggestion of another
traveler.
Does the ground pass under his feet? He
fights the urge to turn towards the queen
of death, who bids him a somber,
melancholy farewell. How long gone is
sweet Persephone? But he dares not
look. For lesser pleasures did she
surrender.
His feet move steadily. Under his
breath he counts the cadence, gives
it beat, gives it measure. His fingers reach
for the lyre strapped to his back. They
struggle with a knot, then return
to his side. No music.
It cannot have been long. His
breath comes evenly as ever, and
his forehead is day. He can't hear
a breath behind him, but never was she--
His hand reaches out to lie flat on
the side of the wall.
He stands still, straining his ears,
silent as a god's breath. What
he hears, he is unsure, terrified, and
the cadence of his footsteps, still
echoing through his mind, fights
and clamors against his
heartbeat.
He turns around, and beautiful,
solemn Hades leans forward
to close his eyes with gentle fingers. "Go home,
Orpheus," he says, in a voice to make the world
weep itself into slumber. "You are not for
here."
Turning away, stumbling up the
passage, and it seems as though
the ground races to bear him into
the world, Orpheus returns blindly
into the world.
~ ~
Comment, please? Acknowledgment is helpful right now.
I've been listening nonstop to The Bachelor lately. I'm so obsessed with it right now.