A really not very seasonal poem

Orpheus in Hades

He stood before the god of Death and Hell
and Hades looked down into Orpheus' eyes
and suddenly the dull and leaden skies
were inside Hades' skull. And Orpheus fell

endlessly through that mind and those dark skies
flashed Hades' thoughts through clouds that were Hell's brain
and Death's emotions were the driving rain
that chilled the poet to the bone. Those eyes

stared through him and he knew how small he was
and Hades mocked him. He had thought with song
to win her back, and Hell had, all along
tricked him with hope. And still he hoped because

hope is the thing that lies beyond despair
and hell's tricks, leads us out into fresh air.

(no subject)

I am writing gloomy poems about death, hell and lost love. But that too is part of the Spirit of the season. and I wish the very best to all of you

(no subject)

Hades speaks

'I took your wife' said Hell, 'because she died.
She died because she fled the Satyr. Chaste
and faithful to your bed. I find the taste
of faithful wives the same as those who lied

when I swallow them down. For all things fall
into my mouth. A few things I will take
-my wife for instance – just for whimsy sake.
I am not fair or comforting at all

I simply am. I don't insult the dead
by softening the brutal facts. Things end.
I'm there to take them, not to be their friend
Only deluded fools are comforted.

And poets. ' Orpheus smiled, strummed, sang aloud.
He'd often done well with a tougher crowd.