SONNET 154
By JH Sayyar
Poets’ fight with words like a cock
Catching words, put into the cage
Of rime, the cage is put on the rock,
Its height, the chill increase rage.
The hungry cocks use in the verse,
I guide others when the cock cries,
If a passenger puts me in the purse,
Think me in solitude when you rise.
The words maintain here our being,
If no word, on tongue man; a stone,
Of a tomb, life spindle is fleeing,
In the cells, skulls and a hard bone
What is soul? Just words; never die,
When tongue silent; words never fly.
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