Orpheus

Orpheus was the best poet and musician in the world.

He was blessed by Apollo, his father,

And his mom was the muse, Calliope, the patron of epic poetry.

Apollo personally gave him his first Lyre when he was a boy, giving him lessons. 

They say that his poetry and music was so good that people considered him superhuman. 

It’s rumored that even the trees, stones and animals appreciated his music, dancing to it. 

He was hero,

Using his music to counter the songs of the Sirens,

Saving the Argonauts.

On his way back, he met the love of his life, Eurydice. They married and she immediately died from a snake bite. 

Overwhelmed with grief, Orpheus begged his father to talk to Hades for him. Apollo did, and Hades agreed that Orpheus could journey down to the underworld and retrieve his true love from him. 

Orpheus descended down into The Underworld, playing his music for Charon and Cerberus, who like everything else, was charmed by it. They let him descend further. 

Orpheus met Hades and played for him. Hades was moved and agreed that he could take back Eurydice, as long as neither of them looked back on their venture out of hell. 

They almost made their way out and into a happy life together, when, at the end of the perilous and dark journey out of hell, Orpheus saw the sun and was overjoyed at seeing it, he looked back at Eurydice, condemning her to her life with Hades in the Underworld. 

Orpheus’s grief broke him. The best poet and musician in the world suffered for his love. He suffered greatly, for he had dared to love greatly; for he knew the importance of love. And he knew how rare it was. 

Dionysus, who was annoyed by Orpheus' relentless grief, sent people to kill him. They say that Dionysus was jealous about how much Orpheus loved his father, Apollo. 

They ripped him apart . . . They ripped Orpheus to shreds and sent his head down the Lebos river, his head still singing the tragic songs of his true love, Eurydice.

The dismembered limbs of Orpheus were gathered up and buried by the Muses. His lyre they had placed in the heavens as a constellation.

What a pointless tragedy this shit was. 

What a horrible life for the poet. 

What the hell?

These damn Greeks, they sure loved their tragedies. 

And, 

     Babe, 

I want you to know,

    That if some fucking snake bites you someday, and you die on me,

I’ll do what Orpheus did,

            I’ll go get you in the afterlife. I promise you, I will. 

And I won’t look back at you when I see the sun, because to me, babe, you are the sun. 

-CH 7/16/25