Sonnet II: His Gift

Near every effort I express is less
Than what is necessary to survive;
Yet, I remain ironically alive
Although my work is not enough to bless

My life. But why then shall I acquiesce
To strife when all around me is the live,
Unending truth that I can still revive
My worthless Plod. To see within this press,

My worthless God has gifted me the tool
Of nothing; still, the only gift He has
To give. And I, His ever steadfast fool,
Must live within these scenes! I think that as
I die inside, these means I come to see:
That one thing God Himself has given me.

This sonnet is part of a short sequence: click here to read it all:


8 responses to “Sonnet II: His Gift

    • You are most welcome. And I am sorry I have been so remiss in my postings of late–at least in the answering of comments. I type very quickly and can answer many many comments in a very short period of time. Sometimes though, I feel shy or reticent regarding the task.


    • Well David! It’s not necessary to say sorry! I know you would always reply if you could and that’s not the reason why I leave a note. But of course.. I always love it when you reply! :) I wish I could make more posts of my own, but I really love reading and there’s so much stuff on here. So I choose to read and sometimes reply and whenever I can to pick a part out of my diary to write about. Like now.. I have such a long list of topics that I can post about but the shortage of time makes that I can’t do everything at the same I understand you completely.. also about the case of a particular subject. And by the way.. you know.. Better late then never! ;) So David, I thank you very much replying and wish you a wonderful and blessed weekend! :)


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