Sonnet 24: Love's disease

My heart has been contract‘d a cureless ail

which split my mind and tore my soul apart.

While one part does in dulce daydreams dwale,

the other suffers from nightmarish smart.

The joyous often wakes in pain, and weeps

for loss of evanescent paradise.

The wretched yet sadistic pleasure reaps,

and fools itself that only pains suffice.

What power will repair my raptured mind

and sew the rips of my tormented soul?

Two potent spells this illness will unbind

from me, return me life’s true joy and dole:

A “Yes” revives my mor’bund corpse; Or “no”

will take my dying breath along with woe.

2017/11/23