'ORPHEUS DESCENT'
People have forever been stealing distrustful glances back towards my shape of Eurydice. Greedy eyes searching for a distorted figment, taken shape into the image of hope; was I still willing to follow their mournful way out?
Many have tried, none have succeeded. I am forevermore sitting in a blackened corner with a mouth full of ash. Many faced Orpheus, I say, I wish to stay here where the flames lick my feet and keep me warm. The promise of death was so much more desirable than the possibility of living.
Corroded bone crumbling in your affectionate caress, trembling hands, quivering hearts. Give up your troubles; there is no redemption in the passion of love. The corpse of your affection rests in the space between us. Even your iron clad heart strings cannot return this deadweight back to the promised lands.
Am I Eurydice or Orpheus? I do not dare say.