(Based on the Broadway musical: Hadestown!)
I remember then (!), that love is a vapour
of mortality, impoverished as I am on the
crossroads of belief and doubt. That this
mortality shone in Persephone’s eyes, as
she reflected, that love dies like the fire,
that had a warm glow, but scathing to touch!
As if the power of Hades, could leave everything
to char without even scalding it, even the mere
thought of liberation! A word is as potently destructive
as war. That power makes no promises but swears
by oppression! That its propositions are only mirages
in offertories of despair! If Orpheus could free himself
from his impoverishment, in the first place, would he
prevent the contract of labour for Eurydice?
Was she born to be a slave, like the rest of them?!
Ask Hermes, O Orpheus, that you must keep
guaranteeing eternity because duty comes before love,
or does it? Is duty a mere preoccupation like valour?!
Will you only get allegorical songs for your honour?!
Can optimism to be brave and honourable die, if
eternity can never grant you the piece of dignity
that you deserve? You look back, and Eurydice
dissipates in the mist of slavery time again (that’s worse
than turning to a pillar of salt)! O those poor multitudinal
slaves! How they entertained some hope! Can they ever
be free, O Orpheus(!)?; is salvation the biggest myth?…
when the biggest tragedy is: You can’t even set your own self free!
