Sonnet 6
Feb. 20?, 2008
Hurried, rushed, through the ragged streets,
He flies, ‘s though swift the darkened ways
Must devour he and all his days.
And all the cruelties and deceits
With which he won on many count
Become with knives the beast that flays
And lays to waste the sacred fount,
From where his smiles once did mount
So full of hope to see sun rays.
Alas, o’ertaken, fallen, he lays,
Broken as shards from shattered vase,
Where, sleeping in his wilted feats,
So many a failed heart stays.
Hurried, rushed, through the ragged streets,
He flies, ‘s though swift the darkened ways
Must devour he and all his days.
And all the cruelties and deceits
With which he won on many count
Become with knives the beast that flays
And lays to waste the sacred fount,
From where his smiles once did mount
So full of hope to see sun rays.
Alas, o’ertaken, fallen, he lays,
Broken as shards from shattered vase,
Where, sleeping in his wilted feats,
So many a failed heart stays.
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