Thursday, November 08, 2007
Sonnet - 4
Shall I call me misfortune's chosen blade cleaved,
Or Divine's frail leaf eddying to shores calm?
Here I stand at Life's fork with no choice thieved
Twixt the eye and soul in a life on alms.
Why cloud the seer on a path needing no eye
And hearken to Sirens on one, deaf to Truth?
Is it but romance to see fog and gold ally?
Why mute, my Friend, whither your words to soothe?
When the start and end be the sods same,
Why anneal Life's pains into coffin nails?
Why what beckons me, not do by my name
That I, for poison, all nectar shall fail?
What I will, is the road where shunpikes fade,
Led far from rasorial days, unafraid.