Sonnet II: Challenge

How may a challenge take so many names:
The first, a journey struck with spirit bright;
The next, a stolid, firm, determined, fight;
And then, a simple, tired tread–a game

Although the dream were dead–and next, it came
Relentless, as it yet were sanctified;
Without surrender, lest be dignified
Thus; that the game were lost? The very blame

Was hidden in the cost of keeping on
Within a blackened dream. How challenging
This fourfold path must seem, when what is gone
Is purity, which such a dream may bring.

But fivefold is the path of righteous grief,
When challenge is pursued without belief.

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