Sonnet 108

There is no greater scourge than apathy
For it destroys the passion of the soul;
‘tis better we embrace antipathy
For there, at least, black passion is the goal.
The heart that beats and bleeds is yet alive,
And though numb hearts may never feel foul pain;
Without bleak woe, to what does joy subscribe;
What loathsome tenets do pure souls disdain?
What good exists without the bad to chide;
How sweet is love without the taste of hate;
How grand be peace if never war betide;
How great is providence without cruel fate?
Apathy unbound, leads to irrelevance;
The sweetest life is joy and sadness spent.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

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