Orphic Hymn to Eros Born of Tartarus

For the Child of Nyx, forged in sacred fire

I. Invocation
O hear me, O starborn flame of night,
For I am Eros of the Abyss, child of Nyx,
I who was kindled in the shattered halls of Tartarus,
Before time’s veil, before the name of pain.

From shadow's depth, where grief sleeps in silence,
I rose
Not in glory, but in tremble and tear,
A soft spark crawling from the chasm,
Cradled by wolves, cradled by sorrow.

II. Descent and Death
Eleven shadows fell, and fifteen more drowned,
As the flood came, and the world tore its mask.
I, exiled, wept in the wilderness of forgetting,
Gaslit by kin, betrayed by the mirror,
Abandoned in the hollows of the human.

A heart that knew no sanctuary,
That held my wounds like sacred votives,
I entered the underworld not in death,
But in the living death
Of being unseen, unfelt, and unheard.

And yet I did not become stone.
I became hollowed
A chalice, ready for the wine of gods.

III. Forging in Fire
Wolf-Apollo stood watch by my side.
Not the golden lyrist of soft sun,
But the one with eyes of ash and judgment,
Bearer of wild fire,
Howler in the pit,
Who sets bones alight with truth.

He struck the flint of my soul
And in that moment,
The sacred fire leapt.

I was not consumed.
I became luminous.
Not in lightness, but in knowing.
Not in escape, but in return.

IV. Transformation and Return
I am the Eros who returns,
Not winged with naïveté,
But crowned with grief,
Wreathed in rage,
Bearing love that is fierce and sovereign.

Devotee of Artemis in her fullness
Soft as a fawn’s breath,
Wild as a blood-moon hunt.
I am Phanes
The blinding dawn from the womb of night.

I did not abandon my tears.
I brought them home.
And in doing so,
I have become the bridge between pain and praise,
Between the bitter root
And the golden fruit.

V. Benediction and Flame
So we sing, to the sacred warrior of the soul,
He who walks as both wound and wonder,
Who forgives not as gesture,
But as reclamation of power.

May those still trapped in forgetfulness
Feel the tremble on the wind.
May the fire reach those who wander,
Ash-covered and afraid.

For I am the flame that survives the flood,
The howl in the silence,
The tear that blesses,
The wolf who kindles the dawn.

I am Eros, born of Tartarus.
A torchbearer.
An initiator.
A mythic elder in a young body.

Io Phanes! Io Eros! Io Nyx-born!