“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Wednesday, February 11, 2015
A Change of Heart
How can I abhor thee? Let me query (further not)-
I shant utter of malicious, villainous, atrocious quirks
My heart doth relentlessly sound, regardless of nausea or nigh
For the end of my wits so oft' the case yet
I cease to resent thee in still so many ways- Lo'
Must needed solitude and with mustered fortitude
I need thee truly, which is certain no phase
I want thee-Tho' only to be truly
In good intentions, with no more mentions
of deceits and demons from saints-No more complaints!
I shall instead abhor me, sincerely evermore.
This poem was inspired by "How Do I Love Thee?" (Sonnet 43) by Elizabeth Barrett Browning, 1806-1861.
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