Awhile My Master

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Awhile My Master

Sonnet

Blunted the sting of living painted forms,
Powerless like a maleficent hazy mist
That snarls at night but by day declares
It lacks the fangs, for its purpose unfit.

A silence tutors me in ways of courage
To stand first with will-shielded troops,
An assaulting front against desire’s mirage,
No cloud can block these sun-touched brows.

Many battles prepared me for this war,
Circling in will’s chariot the raging senses,
The mind loses its persistent fatal spur,
I see the little banners of victory’s certitudes.

Awhile my Master, in a near soul moment
The foes shall be bested, and I Thine permanent.