I felt but did not see nor hear the one
And only one who fell to the abyss:
No single scream of fear nor rage in this
Abandoned call–nor hate from whence begun
This long abandoned fall of he who won.
But still the chill of recklessness persists
In all–the tremor of its wrath resists,
Appalling me, a will to be undone.
Yet almost as I fell myself–that with
Abandon… frozen… squalls me to the north–
The shaken state to which I have withdrawn.
What story shall they write, what ode, what myth
Shall celebrate such infamy thenceforth
When long and cold ago I will have gone?
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
David Emeron: Sonnets 
I just remembered what this makes me think of. It’s that Bleach movie. Hellverse is its name I believe.
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I can see that. Even though the entries in this sequence do not mean anything per se, they do have a certain… thingie… to them. This one has a bit of Hell-ward descent in it. This one and its inverse.
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Once more I am delighted by this piece. I can’t help but wonder…will you now play an étude to match the balance and metre of the piece? What am I grasping for, dearest?, not a Shankerian graph or anything like that, but really a… chart?, like in a fake book, from which you could improv the piece over. (seriously, that all made sense in my head, sweetheart!) Are you interested?
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clever..most lovely. Love it :)
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Thank you very much. I am glad you enjoyed it. Sound and balance precede meaning in this sequence which is a study of sound and balance.
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I agree with Mrs. Emeron. I can see the Hell/verse/ward “thingie” going on. An incredible sequence of sonnets here. I’m glad, after your post about not feeling up to writing/commenting, that these poems have appeared. I have gone from despair, to grief to hope and am back to my usual strange self again. I also had the audacity to post a recipe for Yorkshire pudding – dimitte me….but again, this is an intriguing sequence. I shall read several times today – it is a day suited for such.
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I probably will write more of these in the days that follow. They are actually very easy to write, because I concentrate on particular form elements and allow the meaning to come second. Still, as I have remarked here a time or two, I cannot seem to help telling a story whether I wish to do so, or not.
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