"sonnet10"

'tis by the pen and book i'll die
whilst all your angels will draw nigh
this map will summarise our life
when this world loudly exhales strife
their scorn wrapped round like weed in bloom
so tightly bound it seals their doom
unsilent tongues as they do throng
my soul does weep to hear your bong
this place of ours, this saddest sight
i wonder not why they took flight
it seems we hear, nor see your plot
and know that we are just a dot
do tell, wise ones that walk this path
so others know about his wrath

`t. imaan tretchicovmanicova
4jun05