Lasso Of Joy
Sonnet — An Invocation to The Master #103
Published on August 18, 2021
Lasso Of Joy
Sonnet — An Invocation to The Master #103
Oh the anguishes packed into a human span,
The mires that weigh down body’s existence,
What tongue can speak of this acute burden,
Only to Thee is known our deep grievance.
Is this how Thou teachest us the old fable
Of doomed Sisyphus and his vain labour,
Our deeds fruitless from a day all ignoble
Judged by harsh night-brow cruelly severe.
A rotten bread is ours leavened by sorrow,
A bitter wine of unwept tears scorches
Our parched throats, a dread is tomorrow
That hides in its bosom new dangers.
Oh throw for us a lasso of joy’s reprieve,
A happier morn and night for us do conceive.