Sonnet No. II

Breath So Vile

©2010, Olan L. Smith

Abortive; thus a cruel emotion reigns,

And I ― inferring not as who is true;

Who bears a wicked heart so black with stains?

And yet— as I do walk this earth anew,

And wishing not to breathe a breath so vile,

When we are brewing darkness, evil looms.

If I revolt and thus should come your bile

A fire would not bewail and thus so grooms

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.