Orpheus

By Steven Greyheart

Orpheus, keeper of lyre and slayer of dread:
might you yet funnel your song to my head?Orpheus, he who has traveled where no soul has tread:
shall we together soothe all who have bled?Orpheus, muse of the king of the land of the dead:
will you then will me to serve in your stead?I blow out my last white candle
and do not look behind me.

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