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Poem

The moon rises high, casting its pale light,
Yet my soul remains shrouded in endless night
I toss and turn, unable to find respite,
Its memory lingers, my constant despot

Savage feelings leave me in full dread,
Haunting; my mind, refusing to depart
Its presence, a constant in my head,
Consuming my thoughts, tearing me apart
Tossing and turning, sleep evades my bed,
What will muse me, wherever shall I start?
Emotions run wild, I want my heart filled with love instead...

Is the "Sestina" a correct vessel for my plight?
Expressing the turmoil that fills my heart
Savage feelings, a tempest I can not fight,
Leaving me in a state of constant dread

The Sestina's form, a challenge, I desire to embrace
Crafting words to capture this tormented state
Six ending lines, a pattern I must find a way to grace,
As I grapple with this unrelenting fate
Dread and longing, a constant in my life,
Trapped in a spinning cyclone of rife...

The words flow, a torrent of raw emotion,
Capturing the depths of my darkest inner turmoil
Trapped in a cycle of endless devotion,
Questioning my presence, seeking a love to embroil
The Sestina's structure, a picture perfect fit,
Allowing me to pour my beating soul into it

Each line, a reflection of my anguished state,
Painting a picture of this tormented fate
Savage feelings, a burden I can not abate,
As I yearn for relief, I contemplate

The Sestina's way, a semblance for my pain,
Allowing me to express what I can not contain
Dread and longing, a constant refrain,
As I struggle to break free from this life's heavy chain...

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