To Cross The River Styx

Love can be such cruelty, such hurt, such sorrow;
So tormenting, demeaning, like no light of morrow.
If only one could acquire Eros’ lead-tipped arrow-
One pierce will suffice in the other’s heart’s harrow.

Or if one could stop Aphrodite’s song at the verse,
Then this unwelcome sentiment is set in reverse.
Or if one would wilfully receive Daphne’s curse,
Then we shall not witness this tragedy’s worse.

As clear as Hades’ duties never fail,
As lucid as Demeter’s grieving wail,
A maiden’s voyage shall never sail-
if the wind is measured by a Crooked Scale.

Unless this anguish is your own vicious glee;
Your stifled suffering is without decree.
Deaden your heart and the agony shall flee.
In the end it is abstinence that sets you free.