Thursday, December 13, 2007

SPONTANEOUS SONNET #1 (When My Poor, Puny Spirit Quits Its Shell)

I have no wit to make the incorrect
correct, or make the crooked way seem straight.
I do not claim the right to castigate
these others. For my sullen peace protects
more criminals and crimes than may collect
in all of your dark corners. I await,
and won't be waiting long: my certain fate -
it's come among us many times. Reflect:
See Hammurabi carve it into stone,
and Dante place it by the gates of Hell;
there's room to hide behind the guilded thrones
of worldly kings, but cowardice will tell.
I will be standing naked and alone
when my poor, puny spirit quits its shell.

No comments: