Gods and Devils
By S. Ravichandran (Elizabethan Sonnet)
From Heaven’s grace doth fall the gentle rain,
That healeth wounds within the suff’ring soul;
From Hell’s dark hand doth rise the tyrant’s chain,
Which bindeth hearts beneath his grim control.
Though devils reign o’er earth with scepter’d might,
And spread their power broad, both deep and strong,
Yet one small drop of love shall quell their night,
And break the cords that held thee bound so long.
When thou art cast into a pit of woe,
And grievous wounds do make thy spirit bleed,
Lo! Heaven’s light shall on thy pathway glow,
And grant thy heart the solace that it need.
Then lift thy prayer; His hand shall raise thee high,
To dwell with Him in peace beyond the sky.
Simple question was asked but they fumble;
What are you going to do with your life?
Most of them babble, to speak they struggle;
Appears they don't know how to handle strife.
Don't have idea for their future day
lost their direction that shows confusion.
Answer to question is simple if they
apply their minds, there can't be illusion.
It's to find what makes them happy, see what
interests them most, what helps them to let
their creativity flourish; Don't shut
once known, go ahead, take next step, heart set.
But, don't be afraid to believe self, trust
it'll bring happiness; in HIM now entrust.
Feuillemort
For you're the one who makes me spring and grow
In a beautiful vernal equinox
When winter came, said thee "I have to go"
In almost nirvana, thee became flux
As seasons changed, I waited in pure vain
Retrouvaille someday, in cockaigne of ours
Overmorrow, season of growth again
O God, asking to reconnect lost stars
Growth and beauty have passed in a half week
I'm now a shade darker, color no more
Yes, the days have made me totally meek
Bring me back to the days with her afore
Regain, rebirth, relive me for I cry
Ne'er feuillemort, but when green was I.
COMPOSED OF: 3 QUATRAINS AND A RHYMING COUPLET
FORM: SHAKESPEAREAN SONNET (also known as ELIZABETHAN SONNET)
NUMBER OF LINES: 14
SYLLABLES COUNT: 10
PATTERN: ABAB CDCD EFEF GG
A romantic stuck in the age of the Net
Date, select, one thumbed, spider trapped
The bars are empty, a fingerless fret
The bars are empty, no notes ever tapped
Dress for the photo for the trending application
Distress for the best fit that was already seen
Knot a tie, not a tie, or win, here's hesitation -
At knowing you're losing what hasn't been
She's late, your late, trepidation comes early
Ten years was thinking just like your father
Adored them days the nights were timely
Spontaneity struck hours to tales of mischief
No input algorithm, ne'er burdened by prior relief
Note: Elizabethan sonnet, Keats-tailed efegg
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