The Web Poetry Corner - Arnab De - Well, the sonnet halts in desperation, even before my last line!
Well, the sonnet halts in desperation, even before my last line!
by
Arnab De
As the moon reposes, civilization goes to sleep
And in this sonnet, rests a love so deep
I am a drunk pilgrim, praying for words;
And drinking for peace, in this wary world.
Come to me lady, in this rainy day
And as those silent stars fade away,
We can make love;
Whiskey, more whiskey in a tired belly
Today!
And as I write, my rambling applauds;
Inebriation is a blessing bestowed by God
My lady asks me, "Is everything OK, is everything fine?"
Well, the sonnet halts in desperation, even before my last line.