Monday, April 22, 2019

A Distilled Sonnet

Like a baby teething
Each moment timeless
Life is so fleeting
Sighs the modest

Hot air fills the room
Like stones take the quarry
Hot air baloons boom
The most wholesome story

A blue vivid dream
Elapsifies reason
A monument screened
The turning of season

A stone wheel invented
But decades away
A story commended
Reduced back to clay

Ash dust and logic
Moonbeams and such
Words of a prophet
Forgotten during rush

A race to the pinnacle
The whose of the whos
A voyage symmetrical
To ages and clues

To war and to bellow
To laugh and to rest
To harsh someones mellow
To piece in each step

Each line is a runestone
A figment of lore
From babe to the tombstone
Onward we implore






No comments:

Post a Comment