The inspiration for this sprang up hours ago, yet finding the words to convey exactly what I intended has meant erasing and rewriting again and again. Even now I am dissatisfied. Only this try actually made it all the way down to the end of 14 lines! Maybe another attempt later?
(sonnet # CCCCXII)
A reckless wight oft chasing vain carefree;
Nigh traipsing through life merr'ly, dreaming e'er
Of seeming simple things; quite unaware
What lurked around the bend to throttle glee,
Aye change to bittersweet its melody:
The griefs that'd weigh too heav'ly, 'til the air
Of fellow mourners solace as the share
Of mutual sorrows sober the debris.
'Til haunting oboe pieces lend a voice
To tears that ne'er cease, save in lethean flights
Where fantasy or nature might rejoice
The heart to dance. 'Til haunted appetite's
Soft, subtle call renews its cur'ous choice,
Preferring grey-laced notes for its delights.
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