Abyss

In deepest, darkest depths of my despair I find myself without a saving grace. A pendulum of pain prevents my prayer from rising upward through the dead of space. Within these walls a war where no one wins repeats itself just like a worn-out rhyme. No swain should e’er succumb to swinish sins, for he who does the crime must do the time. And yet there was a time I loved her true, and in those days we dreamt without restraint. These merry memories now make me rue a life I should have lived with more constraint. For now, I dwell inside this cursed abyss, a captive soul who longs for heaven's bliss. * This English sonnet was accepted and published in the journal, Society of Classical Poetry