SONNET 118
Whither has your beloved gone,
O fairest among women?
Whither has your beloved turned,
That we may seek him with you?
~ Song of Songs 6:1
And to some, they did not want the weight of their flesh
To weigh alike in gold not someone's amplify
More study of conseuqueces meek, vehement,
Than their's heav'ly wanting pit 'neath the lounging ply
Which, lampooning, turned inaccurate the real loss
Of sacrosanct. Unimpress'd his diagnosis,
Left sun-dried fuss coined blot, purview'f rice and street dust
In the cataract of oblivion were 'ts cysts
And stupid happiness, a taut virtuoso
Inverts mimetic, however bleak, firm 'ts center --
However unbear'ng, utterly feckless -- we go
Heralding the first and last song orignator
Of Spartan Lebanon, medium'f image within
Like his Persian sibyl, we must think creating.
In memoriam, Benharl Kalil
