Orpheus knew either way he would fail.
He didn't know where Eurydice was,
Whether she waited above or below.
If he descended, he'd never return,
Although he might find reunion and peace.
He knew he couldn't bring her back with him,
That others would claim themselves to be him,
Take over his lyre, sing in first-person.
Only he was the true, first-person lyre.
Only he could take confabulation
Down to underworlds known for their silence,
And not even he'd bob back up again.
But if he hoped too long in the open,
Had she been lost, he'd lose both wife and world.
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