literature

Breaking+Finding: Two Sonnets

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Literature Text

1.  Breaking

A man may be confused when love goes wrong,
When a woman’s heart begins to sour.
They sit in lover’s arms, but silence long
Betrays them. And so goes that dismal hour,
When love’s great dreams are crumbling at their feet.
To stay is death, too high the price to part
—not so, she comments in an icy heat,
Then leaves him there, clutching remnants of his heart;
She, off to find "a way to live again";
He, damned for sins he does not understand.
"What life is this?" he cries in soul-felt pain,
"Without you, I am but a shadow-man!"
As time does pass, so fade his anguished moans;
All shattered, he accepts defeat... alone.


2.  Finding


Alone anew, I learned to live my life
As mine, not his, and not a joint endeavor.
And so I found that my hands held the knife
Not his. I wept for what was gone forever,
And in my loneliness I sought him, scared
To be rejected, sent away and jeered.
I looked expecting nothing, full prepared
To find that he’d forgotten, as I feared.
With open arms he met me at the door,
He said he loved me, I said "All along
I loved you." Joy offset old pain and more.
He took me in his arms, where I belong.
I left our love, so sure that it was gone–
My leaving only made it carry on.
Quasi-autobiographical. I put these in the teen romance section due to the age I was when I wrote this, because I had to choose an age group, but I don't think the actual sonnets are age-dependent. I wrote these my freshman year of college, when I was 17.

Not my best work ever, but it's my try at doing fixed-form advanced diction angst poetry. On the other hand, Breaking has made several college men cry. I guess that says something.
© 2005 - 2024 kalany
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Nyx-at-Night's avatar
Wow... Don't think I've seen this one before. I think there's a sort of eloquence in the first half that you just wouldn't expect from a seventeen year old, regardless of how intelligent you know them to be. There's wisdom there, without pretense or any devaluing sentiment. And you say you can't write poetry. Woman, shut yo mouf.