Sonnet
In this Shakespearian Sonnet, I created a narrative of an epic hero, his humble origins, and his possible regrets at the end of his journey.
Born from lacking dirt and several gray hairs
He tilled for greener pastures and small dreams
His father had the bones of an old bear
And his mother collapsed down by the stream
Three wise men in one took hold of his hand
And showed him the darkness beyond his pasture
Mother’s soul in his sac, he left his land
Forsaken nights of pints, dance, and laughter
But like lanterns in the wind he saw them
A stream of souls and eyes for which he fought
And bear bones too, crystal glass and blue stem
And to the war, his ravenous roar he brought
Perhaps he grew old on a throne of glass
Longing for the old fields of barley grass