If fate opposed is useless, what great need
is there to challenge dark despair's great power
when spirit dies, and soul, mind, body bleed,
as hope wilts like a melancholic flower?
When lungs give way, and breath begins to drown,
should life and existence now become jointless,
so glory and fame (marks of the renown
that laud their pride) be futile, vain, and pointless?
But sculpting songs transforms life's dreadful deluge,
as odes calm a tempestuous, mental clime,
like a moored buoy that delivers refuge
through this apocalyptic end of time.
So, brooding minds therefore must all beware,
lest deep truths lead to bottomless despair!
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Author:
The Beauteously Brainy Bard (
Offline) - Published: September 21st, 2024 00:20
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 19
- Users favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy
Offline)
Comments1
Aha! You like to post sonnets here, eh? Lovely. Fascinating and rather intriguing despite seeming obvious, this little song is beautifully rendered to effect, with grand details. Thank you for sharing.
You got me! Yes, I enjoy composing and posting sonnets. It is a penchant for me. As an observation of my own, I perceive that nothing gets by you. So, am I right? Nevertheless, thank you so much for your expressions of praise and enthusiasm (for my sonnets) and thoughtful comments as well! They're truly appreciated and not taken for granted. BBB.
Sonnets are my niche, ergo, I'm perhaps more particular than most readers when such trip across the stage. I do love reading and interacting with sonneteers. Glad to have accidentally found you.
I do understand! Also, the feeling is mutual and reciprocated. What is more, I'm glad to have been accidentally found (by you, another sonneteer). BBB.
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