Sonnet 2

‘Tween loving and wanting, I vacillate,
Wild as a pendulum, one merely drunk,
With rhythm and time am I now profligate,
Circling inside the clock’s restrictive trunk.
My moods are now seasons – all in one day,
The high tide and low, same and disparate;
While my sane mind may keep ill thoughts at bay
How long can my insane heart tolerate?
I might as well be fish out of water,
Free in the air, but still flailing about,
Caged or freed, seems to no longer matter-
The tug-o-war rages on bout aft’r bout;
For wanting you is to my ethics throw,
And loving you, then, is letting you go.

©Asiman Panda 2017