SONNET ON DESOLATION
Yon itinerates the Phoebe,
I feel not it's coolness
Sans aroma, crimson roses
That blooms within my seraglio,
Sun that giveth radiance
Scorches me not!
Lacks shade, the trees
Where I stand.
When damsels embrace me
Ne’er am I in lust,
Though posset I do drink
It embitters my tongue,
Sans my Psyche - this terra
Is inferno unto me.
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▾ This Poem's Voice
Your Poem's Voice
PersonalThemeAbstract
Mixes personal longing with abstract philosophical alienation from world.
SparseMeasureDense
Sparse meditative pacing with layered emotional/sensory ideas per lines.
DarkSentimentBright
Deeply melancholic; absence, suffering, emptiness dominate throughout.
StillEnergyExplosive
Quiet, restrained voice with archaic diction creating stillness.
MicroLengthEpic
Fourteen lines; brief but structured form.
PlainFigurativeOrnamented
Rich metaphor, personification, allusion, elaborate archaic imagery throughout.
LyricVoiceDramatic
Pure lyric internal voice; introspective meditation on personal loss.
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