The heavy ache of longing binds man near
to the relentless march of tired souls
who pass by Paradise in secret fear
that it won’t be as sweet as God extols
They hurl their silent armies in the gloom
and man draws ever nearer to their chants:
a siren’s song too dangerous to consume –
a poison of the heart one ne’er recants.
What makes the souls of men so full of grief?
What potion hath young Circe fashioned now?
There is a need for love and true belief
yet all the world is caught in Sorrow’s bough.
Oh, world don’t join the throngs of grim despair;
Set all your pain aside – and leave it there!
Not only is this sonnet beautiful and mysterious, but it expresses a sophisticated (and I think true) idea about the human state, without being glib. Well done.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much. I really appreciate your taking the time to read my work and that you enjoyed it. Writing is my passion. Thank you!
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