Sonnet 4

Sonnet 4

Here, I see the dead sitting on the train,

Content and blinded with their laziness.

Images of dead souls flood to my brain.

How I’m affected with great weariness,

Am I to be cursed with such great pain?

With pain so thick, murkier than lochness.

Am I to trod through such downpouring rain?

Rain, thickening never ending darkness?

Is that a light I see? Am I still sane?

A light breaking through the Dawn’s weariness,

Or perhaps a mockery to be maimed?

Is that you Lord, showing thy holiness?

Bearing down on them, your eternal wrath.

And grace for those who asked, and did the math!

Reviews

[Krizito]

Most poems I've read, the poet tries to rhyme the 1st line with the next line, and on it goes. But you took the rhyming to a whole new level, without soiling the poem. Wow!!!