Sonnet Nine

A note on the futility and necessity of love, hope and sacrifice.

Inappropriate as it is, I love
Without consideration for the rules,
Quickly, completely, like millions of fools
Who from the gates of our city we drove.

Unworthy as I am, I pray for love
Like a horse butchered alongside lame mules,
Kindness that may lift me out of the pools
And look into my eyes, hovering above.

I cast my prayer like a stone in the sea,
  Creating the ripples of fuel and fire
      To aid me in my most honored labor.

Millions of fools may labor beside me,
  Give incarnation to our strong desire
      As a hungry man might feed his neighbor.