Maker & Denier

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Maker & Denier

Sonnet — Daily Poetry for The Master of Works #51

Courtesy Lexica.art

A moment’s spell is all it took
For the soul-rite accomplished in heart,
By formulae higher than any sacred book
A soul snared in the space of an instant.

A strange pilgrimage this of endless cycles
Weaving through the hours mute and blind
On these strange isles of the senses 
Dotted with debris of deities long lapsed.

Beauty and opulences loom like ghosts
That taunt the heart with joy and respite,
But where is there ever a blessed ease 
When in soul-servitude one is caught!

O Thou, Maker and Denier of dream and purpose,
To what end moves Thy will for us mere mortals?