Sonnet for the unlucky ones

No heroes in our shared mythology.

Few rights, much wrong, the gods have cursed this song

and yet, we sing it anyway. A plea:

atoning sins with volume ever strong.

Regrets weigh heavy, clinging vines of doubt

As kudzu, joining fear to fear to fear

‘Til all despairs are one – a mass without

A name or number, formless, vague, unclear.

We push against the weight; we watch for light,

and anthems, cool as water, soothe and calm.

In darkness, they are balm against the night.

We pause, and listen; yield, and yet- push on.

Solutions there are not to this our fate.

Abide, reside in solitude – and wait.

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