Plotter of Charades

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Plotter of Charades

Sonnet — Daily Poetry to The Master of Works #9

I’ll forego thee O dawn and all thy bright artistry,
The busy hours that troop like waters downstream;
I’ll forego thee O dusk and all thy deep melancholy
Summing the day’s hours to seed night’s dream.

O ye goddesses, of industry, of poetry, of fortune,
Generous were thy boons, with care proffered thy mercies;
I spared not for thee all any labour or hymn,
But I bid thee farewell to heed an inexplicable summons.

What gain to me is all thy mead and leisure O heaven
When to all my years below thou wert nonchalant?
And thou O incompetent hell, for all ills on me done 
I bear the burden of being and becoming yet.

But from Thee, O Plotter of these charades, my soul prays,
“Grant me a lullaby from Thy lips when all this ends.”