Sonnet 75

Like a pitiful insect behind glass
Sheer frantic for the wilder world beyond,
Surmising the invisible impasse
Will be surmounted but before too long;
So has my passion raged pursuing you,
And too, so has my quest here been denied;
Against this bar I fling myself anew,
So desperate this love that voids all pride.
An unrequited love is as a scourge
Imprisoning where there has been no crime;
Twisting sweet serenade into a dirge,
And bleeding life of all it’s precious time;
Though lovers cling to cherished hopes they see,
Some loves are lost; some never meant to be.

©Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

 

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