Sonnet 395

Now there is nothing left in life for me,
All sweetness gone, pure nowt, no speck of grace;
And where’s the nectar when clenched fists do see

Blanched knuckles and rank ruddiness of face.

I gave my all, yea pushed it to the edge,

Proud legacy replete with battles won,

‘Gainst rising rancor so did build a hedge

And lay in siege of better days to come;

But no detente, and surely no retreat,

Though dark discord bade lay the gauntlet down —

Better here sweet death than sour defeat,

Wherein scoured fields by bitter blood be sown.

So mighty titans did in combat rage:

No win; no loss; destruction but their gauge.

Loubert S Suddaby poems