A Sonnet of Humans

I walk on arduous, unpleasant lanes

In full view of inaccessible bliss.

My song consist of dolorous refrains

Mingled with fleeting measures of delight.

On the borderline between life and death,

Pulled by the magnet of mortality,

Shouting words until I am out of breath,

Desperately searching for the right ones.

Suddenly all motion and thought stand still.

All my senses with clarity combine.

Penetrating insight my being fills

In a flash. Volition becomes being.

Above the trees I fly towards my goal.

My exultant song now filling my soul.

Written in response to S.L. Weisend's "The Sonnet of Humans", as Moderator's Pick on Vers Libre.