Finished reading yet another book. This time Fury by Salman Rushdie, a birthday gift from my nephew. I think reading it has affected my mood. I am kind of pampering my brooding mood with this sonnet. I do know I am going to be on the top of the world tomorrow. Hence all those who want/try to sympathise, do so at your peril!
But of course, you are welcome to comment and critique the sonnet...:)
#Update: Today(10.07.07) I have been in a upbeat mood. As you can see from a comment by Dewey, I won a book, Murder on the Menu. Thanks Dewey!!
descending death, dispirited with melancholy
make one’s blood boil with excessive rage.
glimpsing on dimness which blind do see
and ominously mocking their own presage.
mind at earliest in temperament was done
contemplation is, as a death cannot choose.
but have dominance to hurt, and will shun
all words of encouragement most of us use.
angst would rather take a life, fetching a tomb
closing out from all but taking death on a flight.
cursing this world out to the end of its doom
possessed to go in pursuit of antithesis of delight.
Each altering place, which was never seen before
like those waves generate near encrusted shore!