Love Sonnet LXV

...HOPE is a dangerous word.

Love Sonnet LXV

 

 

On your tongue, I taste the

bitterness, the pain of oblivion. On

your lips, I feel the fire of vengeance,

stroked by oppressions’ flame, and

 

garnished with a silent scream.

There is no safety on Walden’s Pond,

nor healing in the woods around

what is called Eden. Only a

 

slow death is found there and the

countless bones of women, like

you, who only wanted to feel

 

alive, feel the warmth of being seen

whole, individual, of being treated like

a human being; of having HOPE!

 

Aztec Warrior / redzone 10.16.2025

Author's Note

....thanks for reading