Published May 12, 2006
Miasma
I think: this mire is only made for one—
for me, for blood that pulses through my limbs.
I watch the fog that leaves all hope undone,
and cry, rememb’ring dead, unholy hymns.
Alone, I know, this trail must still be blazed,
in hazes long to come and long to leave.
The fields of mem’ry’s yearning have been razed,
replaced by fogs that choke me as I grieve.
But, what is this?—this gleaming shaft of light?
What knife could cut miasma clean and clear?
Whate’er it is, my eye it does ignite,
and pasts, so bright, come flooding year by year.
My legs can now sustain this weary soul,
and Life, not fog, surrounds me clear and whole.
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141,343 Literary Works • 674,362 Reviews
I don't particulary like the punctuation of the first line. It doesn't seem to fit.
However, I do like the 'dark to light' theme, and the rhyming doesn't feel forced at all.
I really like this stanza. I'm not sure why, but I just do.
Excellent.
This is a beautifully written sonnet. I like how there exists a mirror between the use of pentameter and the "blood that pulses through my limbs." The imagery throughout is well-developed and used quite effectively.
Well done.
I really love this sonnet. I think you have done a beautiful job. I'm sort of confused though by the punctuation in the first line: I think: this mire is made for only one-
Are you trying to show that the miasma exists only in the individual's mind??
It seems like the individual in the poem is perhaps fighting a war between good and bad memories? I love the ending but am sort of troubled by how it is that past memories seem to be troubling this person in the first half while at the same time uplifting him/her in the second half? Anyway that is a VERY MINOR cirticisim. You have done a beautiful job otherwise.