Sonnet for the Mourning

January 30, 2008
By David Kong, Moscow, ID

Where is thy strength, thy constancy, thy might,
Infinity contained in beaten gold?
How frail thy bond, how changeable, how slight,
Which wound our hearts, yet fortune cannot hold.
What archer bound, the trident broke apart,
And dashed to rocks and left to wand'ring waves.
With her sweet visage, Neptune took my heart.
Now lost it lies 'mid countless ocean graves.
What ages' bitter torment must I bear?
To weakened flesh my willing soul is chained,
To weakened flesh that, cursed as Adam's heir,
Inconstantly with sinful lust is stained.
Eternity, receive me, guide this hand
To where thy twin doth lie upon the sand.


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