Sonnet: 5
Th’ redolence of winter’s sweet silent mist,
A solemn oath to odorous spring’s return.
Yet joy and pleasure live through sessions least,
Where sadness, pains in me relapse and burn.
If woes to live, so joy as fallacy,
The finest glee is thus indifference.
Though temptations fiddle with bewilderment,
My gleam senses, as veiled vile lunacy,
Of Medusas eyes, lured by coherence,
Ceased and turned lives to e’er still bereavement.
And my wearied heart, yearns for the unfelt,
And eyes with sights pale ‘nd tears, the unseen.
And careless desires for untameable knelt.
While bowing to nothingness’s all I ween.
Th’ redolence of winter’s sweet silent mist,
A solemn oath to odorous spring’s return.
Yet joy and pleasure live through sessions least,
Where sadness, pains in me relapse and burn.
If woes to live, so joy as fallacy,
The finest glee is thus indifference.
Though temptations fiddle with bewilderment,
My gleam senses, as veiled vile lunacy,
Of Medusas eyes, lured by coherence,
Ceased and turned lives to e’er still bereavement.
And my wearied heart, yearns for the unfelt,
And eyes with sights pale ‘nd tears, the unseen.
And careless desires for untameable knelt.
While bowing to nothingness’s all I ween.