788. O bitter flame that feeds on joy’s delight,

SONNET 788
By JH Sayyar
O bitter flame that feeds on joy’s delight,
Thou art serpent coiled within the breast,
Thou turn sweet love to sleepless night,
And rob the gentle heart of peaceful rest.
Where did trust in sunlit meadows play,
Now doubt darkens every look and word;
A smile, a glance, a step the other way—
All look blades where none were inferred.
Yet Jealousy, thou art both curse and plea:
A cry for love, though clothed in cruel guise;
Thou show how deep the soul’s desire can be,
Though oft thy lash will blind the lover’s eyes

Be gone, false fire, or let thy heat refine
Love lives, not burns, in hearts like mine.