Main      Site Guide    

Poetry Pool

Sonnet Two

Would not I carry my rugged pride
When element to element will mingle and reside
In perfumed consummation of interstellar space
In a new planet cast out of Brahama's rage
For ever wishing my nibbled pen could trace
A line of haughty verse to silence the deadly state
The world's affairs and all its cloud clapped might
But ends in poor surrender shorn of man's pride
Shorn of all honour when our tattered rags do show
The imprints of tempters all their dishonest row
Then we hate to touch our mortgaged flesh and bone
When souls are slaughtered in church yards of rhone
It might have been better to explore salient venues
The spirit of dark waters or some sealed avenues.

Durlabh Singh


Back to the Poetry Pool.