Haunt
That argument as dissident
confines as progress stays unkempt.
How single scourging, love unspent
so wastes in apathy to vent.
A time where virtue needs content
too often wrath builds is consent,
as sorrow latent, but then bent
while shadows focus to extent.
Consigning forecast so relent,
apology the needful meant
confuses like no words recant
confers its distance to distant.
And builds enactment's foolish flaunt,
so time away from Thee . . . is haunt!
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.
