A Sonnet On Sin
Most times I do the
things I know are wrongs
Most times I cleave to
deeds of scarlet night
I bless and curse; these
things I do in tongues
Too dark and strange, I
know not wrong from
right.
I call upon my tears to
cloak my state
They slowly heed but
overflow in vain
Thus sad, I wish upon a
lock on Fate
Thus sad, I wish upon
this torrent's wane.
As wolves in burning
chase of gentle deers
I scout the farthest
corner-swamps to hide
I'm hunted strong by
stormy winds of fears
Wherefore my breathing
seeks a chaste-confide.
The deeds I considered a
harmless whole
These deeds are melted-
sharp and wound my
soul.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
