Crystal's Adventures in Webdev Land » sonnets

Hail

Crys — Sun, 17 Aug 2003 21:49:05 +0000

This one takes two forms:

Sonnet:

grasping, reaching, turning, forever
twisting under a hail of forgotten sins
tomorrow’s past is swept away
the raging tempest’s finale begins

alone, cowering, of uncertain mind
there is no one left but you,
where once lay many
the City holds its breath — what will you do?

out of cadence, in disrythmic time
hesitance halts even your infantile crawl
eternity lost for a second’s regret
blind pride before your unbroken fall

angels hide their eyes in shame
and you have only yourself to blame.
Clifnotes Version:

Twisting under a hail of forgotten sins
There is no one left but you
The raging tempest’s finale begins
the City holds its breath — what will you do?
Hesitance halts even your infantile crawl
Angels hide their eyes in shame
Blind pride before your unbroken fall
and you have only yourself to blame.

No Answers

Crys — Sun, 23 Mar 2003 21:53:56 +0000

Are there no answers?
Is there no light?
Am I faced with certain knowledge
of what faceless terrors haunt the night?
You say your tears will fall forever
but when you look at me your eyes are dry
No awkward dance or backward glance
Mars the serenity of your goodbye
Walls built of my insecurities
Overcome, overwrought, tensions taut
Bricks kilned in the fire of your stare
I let it slip away without thought
Silent and buried, I scream to the air
Is there no one left who dares to care?

To.

Crys — Fri, 28 Feb 2003 21:58:27 +0000

To paint your thoughts as innocent phrases
To write your wit and charm into a look
To scream your name in a silent whisper
To burn your face into memory’s book
To ensorcell this wanton libertine
To steal my breath with a casual glance
To sculpt your touch in gesture and in words
To ignite fire in a drink and old-fashioned romance
To sing with the voice of a thousand stars colliding
To wonder at the coincidences that lead to culmination
To inspire the words that stop the crying
To invade my dreams and conquer with illumination
To tilt at the windmills that make our life sad but sweet
To blindly grope for a soul that makes your life complete

Guess I’m just getting old