Wednesday, July 16, 2014

Sonnet: Eldritch Caldrons

((…or black Distresses) (Seraphs recalled))

The Seraphs have departed from our lands,
And left with them is all their tender love.
Their mission no longer breaths near our shores,
Nor their music to the heart, lonely souls;
All that remains is what memory demands,
A vision of the lost romance and yore.
They well have said: “We shall return no more;
“You have beckoned Satan, now in his hands!...

“Indeed, we were yours until your subtlest wiles,
Cared no longer for our draw and mystery—
Your eldritch sins hushed beneath the dawn star,
You’re a hot pot of foul by the sea—
Take now the black distress, your quest, with smiles,
You are the beam for the profane afar!”

 No: 4469 (7-15-2014)