Ode To A Bleak Existence (Sonnet)

I sip insipid nectars of existence,
In rancor rue the datums of my mind,
Immutable is life to my persistence,
The mordant chains of solipsism bind.

In vain I search for probity and goodness,
Hypostatize ideals the mind creates,
Theodicy I’ve long abjured to crudeness, 
Through paroxysms of pain this life abrades. 

Like morning frost I too shall obsolesce,
By caustic rust of transience immured,
Within these morbid realms I convalesce,
Until by mortal fate I shall be cured.

But still, my sordid gifts are not in vain,
As life begins for those who love the pain.

gene16180

My muse can be unseemly and nomadic although she fancies meter and good rhyme, her diligence and output are sporadic, and some may say she’s moving past her prime. At times she’s off consorting with the sages reflecting on existence, as it were, At...

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