Poetry Makes a Different Exploration of the Realm of Death
No poet thinks about the path the wife
Of Orpheus took down to Hades. Not
One poet ever writes about how harshly rife
That journey was. The poisoned bride’s death lot
Was just the same as anyone’s. The path
The poet took to fetch her, though, was filled
With horrors overcome. He stilled the wrath
Of Cerberus with singing. Three heads thrilled
And tilted to it and he almost whined
With pity. Spinning stopped and fiery pain
For Ixion paused. Furies’ cheeks were brined:
Eumenides felt sentimental stain.
..The doom of one adored was then paroled.
….The lava heart of Pluto turned to gold.
