Melancholy Grief [A Sestina]

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mdmorash
Clearwater Poet
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Melancholy Grief [A Sestina]

Post by mdmorash » Fri Aug 06, 2004 3:29 pm

Now lost within this melancholy grief,
Just hoping now to find a little time,
To break away from shadows into light;
Once soft these ghostly bars have all turned hard,
Solidified by nothing but your lies,
And locking me away from all I’ve lost.

But is all that I had to give now lost?
And will I now fall prey to my own grief?
Now lost among these tortured little lies,
Are scraps of things I’ll find somewhere in time.
And why is turning back so very hard,
When darkness bleeds alone into the light.

Now tunnels fill with shadows, none with light,
And all my pasts, but sin, have now been lost.
Can anything but pain make death so hard?
With no emotions left, not even grief,
And nothing left to spend but silent time,
To pay a debt that coldly rots in lies.

And is there more to truth than sullen lies?
When breath is lost to lust just like the light,
Does suffocation mark the end of time?
And when I find those things I had once lost,
Does finding them sit easy upon grief,
Or am I held behind them just as hard?

So softest down, for me, becomes so hard,
As further into darkness slide my lies.
A ship of fools sails slowly, fueled by grief,
But on that ship of fools there is a light.
Like moths unto the flame it traps the lost.
Our beating wings now mark the hands of time.

But broken clocks hold secrets of their time.
So even as their pendulums swing hard,
No comfort did the lay upon the lost.
Now all I hear’s the heartbeat of my lies.
A swollen vortex burning dark as light,
Within the churning eddy of my grief.

So now upon my grief I’m marking time.
And lost among the stars I find the light.
Too little for my lies, I wander lost.

Michael David Morash
All rights reserved
Copyright 2004
Humor is the only test of gravity, and gravity of humor; for a subject which will not bear raillery is suspicious, and a jest which will not bear serious examination is false wit.

Aristotle (384 BC - 322 BC)

How poor are they who have not patience! What wound did ever heal but by degrees.
-- William Shakespeare

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mdmorash
Clearwater Poet
Posts: 27
Joined: Sun Jul 25, 2004 9:56 am
Location: California, wishing I was back in Canada

Post by mdmorash » Fri Aug 06, 2004 3:33 pm

I read Heinzs' post about Sestinas and thought I'd give it a try. It was interesting and challenging, and I think I may have gotten it right.
Humor is the only test of gravity, and gravity of humor; for a subject which will not bear raillery is suspicious, and a jest which will not bear serious examination is false wit.

Aristotle (384 BC - 322 BC)

How poor are they who have not patience! What wound did ever heal but by degrees.
-- William Shakespeare

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heinzs
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Post by heinzs » Fri Aug 06, 2004 4:18 pm

Wonderfully formed, Michael. You've managed the difficult word repetition (6-1-5-2-4-3) in the sestets and maintained flow and continuity. You have the internal and end words in the final tercet, and an actual conclusion. Cheers!!

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mdmorash
Clearwater Poet
Posts: 27
Joined: Sun Jul 25, 2004 9:56 am
Location: California, wishing I was back in Canada

Post by mdmorash » Fri Aug 06, 2004 5:16 pm

Thank you once again Heinzs. :cheers:
Humor is the only test of gravity, and gravity of humor; for a subject which will not bear raillery is suspicious, and a jest which will not bear serious examination is false wit.

Aristotle (384 BC - 322 BC)

How poor are they who have not patience! What wound did ever heal but by degrees.
-- William Shakespeare

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