 | Sonnets to the Universe |  |
10
Self
There is a barrier 'twixt your soul and mine.We call it Self. It is of vampire breed.
Our life-blood is its sacramental wine.
It seeks its own with fierce, insatiate greed.
It is a quicksand, in its treacherous deeps
Engulfing all who heedless wander near.
It is a whirlpool, in whose eddying sweeps
All things that drift are caught and disappear.
It is a siren, with seductive wile
Luring the soul to shipwreck and to death.
It is a serpent, hissing words of guile,
A sting of poison in its every breath.
This is the self, to which my soul must die,
If it would live to your eternity.
| Sonnets to the Universe | |