Estranged

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Estranged

Sonnet

A painstaking tower I built, layering thought upon thought,
Far above the human spheres, past wanderlust clouds and the sky,
Bricked with words, each solid rung upholding another height,
Behold now the tower looming close to this little globe’s periphery.

But what avails these meticulous words, this labour strenuous,
For the heights are infested by a silence nude and august.
Who then dispatched the fire-messengers, truth’s harbingers,
Who bespoiled my lay dreaming heart with an ardour bright?

Was the climb a vanity’s enterprise to please the acrobat will?
Forsaking the pleasing valleys, the green lazy meadows,
For this bright bare haven without a soul, stirless and still,
Renounced of any queries and their counterpart answers.

Now am estranged to men and bolted the offices of heaven;
Here I must light a vigil’s flame and kindle it to an askesis-sun.