Cesspool

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Cesspool

Sonnet — An Invocation to the Master #280

Oh how many volumes are in book of quarrels
Assembled from five score years that passed
Of Thy experiments upon our persons
And all our plaints by Thee ever unheard.

Dost Thou know the climes we must battle,
The dawn that unveils a new woe to face
And dusk that closes one more hope little,
Every hour removes a faculty without trace.

Must we be propped like a will intangible 
That lurks unseen behind our thoughts,
Or like the soul dwell in a space ethereal 
Leaving the body in whirl of world-events.

Oh Thy celestial manners we can’t emulate,
In this cesspool of time and antagonist fate.