literature

The Poet

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Literature Text

He gathers tales, sings them for a pittance
Holds peasants spellbound on the brink of fright
With weird myths that bewilder, if one might
See their meaning past the poet's flagrance
But all are in awe of his strange presence
And lend their ears until it is midnight
And the stars start to shine cold, distant, bright
With an ancient sentience, in silence

Come dawn and he leaves, do not dare follow
For this man treads where no mortal can go
To the stars that sired him, he unveils
A vista of a repugnant hollow
Where above all you hear the great bellow
It is here the Old Ones tell him their tales
My 27th sonnet. I tried some things I have never tried in a sonnet before. Namely, I have for some reason avoided using the same words multiple times in a sonnet. But here I think I got the short story of the sonnet to go full circle for the first time by using the word "tales" twice. There are also some double rhymes, mainly in the sestet as lines C and D also rhyme with each other as well as their corresponding lines. I think it bestowed a nice fluidity into the text.

Notably, the first and so far only draft of this sonnet, but I don't believe I will change it later on anyhow. Took me about 50 minutes to write.
© 2015 - 2024 Wormfodder
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