Elysian Sonnet
10/09 2021
Up at the Elysian hill he still sits
Staring down at who was once another,
Who used to dream of going splits on grits,
Where the future only was an other.
For who is he to deny that waiting?
Up from the hill could sound even reach him;
A warning of how him annotating
Only could serve below, like a dark hymn?
Perhaps better to leave it all alone,
To find solace in the fact that darkness,
And only darkness, can truly be shown
To portray its absolute absurdness.
Could it be me running from past to present
Just to learn that very unpleasant lesson?