The Jaded Eye
Death is not death but a mask of great love
That protects us from pain in archived dust
Where vanity veils and desire dreams lust,
And the spirit's retreat is safe above.
Behind the mask like wings of woodland dove
A heart still beats, and footsteps break the crust
Of memory with shadows of her bust
Along the staircase of time and true love.
For love is eternal and cannot die,
Though a heart may pine itself bare to bones;
The soul that loves forever in the eye
Of God, a kindred spirit life enthrones.
The mask that fools the jaded mortal eye
Is but fickle flesh cradled on our bones.
ITALIAN (Sicillian) SONNET: abba abba cdc dcd
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