"Bubbling up in our own good time-- online."
Groundwaters Publishing, LLC
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Volume 4 Issue 3
Page 14
Page 14
I wear my crown of thorns for all to see;
It comforts me to bleed before the world,
That all may know the suff'ring I've endured
Lest free from guilt or torment they would be;
A martyr's role it seems is cast for me
To call to mind affliction yet uncured:
Rest not upon the blessing ye've incurred,
My torment 'neath your mattress is the pea;
And why, thou ask, must I berate thy bliss?
Cannot I find some happy state of mind
That might afford the mass a peaceful sleep?
Misunderstood, to this I am resigned;
Concern I scorn; thy pity I dismiss,
The juice for me is just to see ye weep!
It comforts me to bleed before the world,
That all may know the suff'ring I've endured
Lest free from guilt or torment they would be;
A martyr's role it seems is cast for me
To call to mind affliction yet uncured:
Rest not upon the blessing ye've incurred,
My torment 'neath your mattress is the pea;
And why, thou ask, must I berate thy bliss?
Cannot I find some happy state of mind
That might afford the mass a peaceful sleep?
Misunderstood, to this I am resigned;
Concern I scorn; thy pity I dismiss,
The juice for me is just to see ye weep!
| Crown of Thorns: An Italian Sonnet (#2 of Three Sonnets) By Dade Cariaga |