Redemption serves a tricky role,
for Orpheus knew where all the mythos goes.
As warm water fuels the tempest,
each courteous action to foreign eyes is vice.
Heavenly canvas embroidered,
by the modest hand of noble kindness—
the one that falls the fastest,
to touch the soil in the inferno.

Fastened: requiem into the fluid motion,
and on this journey
picking from forgotten melodies:
emotions.
Each of which is the uprising wind
that most coarse, nonchalant of the dooms.
Yet if it’s let inside with open arms and loved,
opens as the oyster shell,
unraveling the pearl.
Ripened and rich in sweetness,
a fount raspberry on a meager day.