Sonnet II
Breath so Vile
©2010, Olan L. Smith
Abortive; thus a cruel emotion reigned,
And I― inferring not as who is true;
Who bears a wicked heart so black and stained?
And yet— as I do walk this earth anew,
And wishing not to breathe a breath so vile,
When— we were brewing darkness, evil loomed.
If I revolt and thus should come your bile
A fire would not bewail, and thus so groomed
Our fate; and who will wear a scar or dons
A face so marred and eyes as dimmed by hate;
And if an omen does so deem or fawns,
And; when a moment eyes should meet too late
Or do each other greet and lust for more,
A wind is come, an icy breeze is lore.