Sonnet II

The cavern still is enticing to me,
drawing me in with its pitch black embrace;
stony walls behind the arms of the trees,
and mossy curtains do frame his dark face;
thorns paint his eyes red with the blood they steal,
and the cold forest floor licks at my feet;
though ice touches my skin I do not feel,
so I sleep in his watch in woodlands seat.
I look on as Orpheus comes and goes,
and I too do weep at his mournful song,
and He does pity the boy’s sad sorrow,
but by poor Eurydice he did do wrong;
By the love of hell, by the gates I rest,
by Hades touch I swear my heart is blessed.

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