Jesse Broussard
Chalcedon Term Rhetoric
Word Count: 128
Engraving Hearts and Stone
“I know not why, why lovers, lovers die.” A
Thus, Lewis’ angel, spying mortals, longs B
To taste the cup (caressed by envious eye) A
Of pain, while we? We’re screaming mordant songs B
Of loves undone to never be regained, C
“That long disease, our life”—a damned blockade D
Of raging death, affections merely feigned— C
Yes, gladly with the angel we would trade. D
Yet, what means water to a sated earth? E
And what, to those who cannot die, is life? F
The best of buds are those that bloom in dearth. E
Thus joy and pain, conjoined within my wife— F
The girl content while ragged on the rack— G
Wrought more on earth than just her granite plaque. G
The letters to the right are the rhyme scheme.
Blessings.
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2 comments:
Jesse dear. How she would love this.
Just this morning someone asked me what the hardest thing was in all that I went through with H. It caught me by surprise, so I stalled by saying how easy she made it for the rest of us and finally managed to get out something about having to watch her suffer, especially there at the end. But afterwards, I realized I was wrong:
The hardest thing is missing her.
The hardest thing is missing her.
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