Sorrows

My sorrows! Lying, listing, listed, sighing!

And yet somehow, they live, requiring,

denying, surrendering, demanding, confusing

soul and psyche, imprisoning heart, which

5px;

holds with hands so bone-cold, the remains

of what had been; crumbling memories.

So does mind make of the impossible, some

thing which can be borne, carried forth on

5px;

crushed shoulders, held aloft, until the place

is reached, where the burden can be put down;

the offering of suffering can be laid at the feet

of grief, settled on the altar of deep becoming.

5px;

So is the Self carved cautiously by time,

so is Life revealed in poignant form, as mine.

http://dversepoets.com/2012/09/13/formforall-basic-sonnet-forms/

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About rosross

Editor, writer, poet.
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