Sonnet 557

All is forgiven, God alone decides,
So by his will you have forsaken me;
Now grief alone shall chase a swallowed pride,
Rank bitterness the lingered taste to be.
We are straw dogs though feelings yet contend
Through repressed ire when fate be meted so,
Celestial decrees with wanton ends
Do blacken quite the hopes of lesser souls.
Stalk form asunder, shattered on the ground
Beneath the umbra of unquestioned might;
Frayed worthless husks that love once did impound
Now cast away forever from your sight.
Wind scattered grasses ‘neath dark clouds belie
That noble strife to seek a bluer sky.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

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