Sorrow is on the wind,
entangled in the breeze,
felt in the ground and the
sky and the gods cry,
the gods weep for this is
the time of blues sweeping
with notes across the scene
darker than dark, exhausting
the light, for you are gone
and I cannot see anymore,
just the hands in front of me
painted in blood, and not this
life that was in my body and
now is taken underground to be
with the devil and his angels
in this place where the gods
don’t go, with Orpheus
and me looking for you.