The Seeker
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Shakespearean sonnet, leaning hard on iambic pentameter.
Act 2, Scene 4.
The Salisbury plain. Within a henge, a watchfire burns. The Seer approaches The Seeker.
Take heed, my friend, our part in cosmic cheat
Plays on; below the stage the truth lies quite.
Hold off the blazing sun's firstfound deceit,
Trust only in the filtered lunar light.
Maids long for wifely pleasure while wives cry
For their lost maidenhood, each of a date
They'd cast away; while Fate presides on high,
With ever laughing countenance it waits.
Mere mortal men lie dreaming all bewitched;
They ken not of the ruse nor hollow fake
Which gods employ on them, their eyes bestitched,
Awash in hope shown false if they would wake.
Unknowing we are born, Illusion's tide
A ceaseless pull, until the great divide.
Copyright © Doug Vinson | Year Posted 2016
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