All English Sonnets
He thinks that I am happy and content,
By being gifted this world. Without end,
I could have reasoned with Him O! my Friend
And asked Him “Did you take my due consent”.
Ere sending me to this vile continent.
Asphalted specter of the gruesome mire,
The dormant grave of a poet’s pure desire,
Yes I could mouth this denouncement.
I prefer but to leave His government,
Uncensored. And He finds me fit and trim,
At peace with life and without a lament,
Pre-occupied with songs to the brim.
My cup is filled. He thinks I am content,
I too, keep silence haggle not with Him.