Fairy Rust (English sonnet)

by Ben Pickard   Jun 25, 2019

My blade is not as keen as in the past
When mighty oaks would fall with just a swing.
A sharpened edge is frail and never lasts -
Not ev'ry prince will rise to be a king.
The serpents often flew above my head,
But fire turned to ice around my sword.
Alas! it burns and smothers me instead -
I cower from the heat upon the floor.
No longer do I try and fell the trees;
A tragic sort of truth has dawned on me:
That fairy dust is taken by the breeze
And happiness is diced by misery.
Enjoy the blade that carves a clearer mind
Before the rainbow's end is left behind.


Ben Pickard


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Latest Comments

  • 3 months ago

    by Star

    This is an amazing write, written carefully!! I wont say it is beautiful for one reason, I feel there is great sadness behind this sonnet and this is never something good!!
    Hope all is good :)

    • 3 months ago

      by Ben Pickard

      Thanks for reading/commenting, everyone.

  • 3 months ago

    by Jamie


  • 3 months ago

    by Milly Hayward

    Beautiful... I genuinely wish that I could imagine metaphors like this...
    "Happiness diced by misery" "a blade that carves a clearer mind" as usual a really great read. Milly x

  • 3 months ago

    by Everlasting

    I think I remember this one. A great read.

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