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Sonnet No.2

by J. Rafael Ponciano 3 years ago in sad poetry

Friday, December 15th, 2017

O, Bane of Argos, pray tell truthfully,

When by thy crafty hand a lyre thou lent

To Leto’s son, Apollo, faithfully,

Was mischief for thy brother thine intent?

For I do not yet know the sound of joy

As written by, and for, what men assent,

Abound in works the centuries employ

To pass as such the sound I still lament.

Unless, thou claims, the Fates, cruel sisters, three,

Upon bestowing births of mortal breeds

Their measured grant of fair or foul decree,

Have fallen close to entertain misdeeds?

For by such deeds I do indeed know well

The spell, alone, the Healer’s voice may quell.

sad poetry

J. Rafael Ponciano

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J. Rafael Ponciano
Read next: Sonnet #3: Summer's Rain

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