Answer Me, Please! Sonnet 179 Will I survive the night that's layin' the bed For me and calling me to go to sleep In her indistinct arms; "No dread... no dread..", Her cradlesinging me for falling deep? Will I be able to behold the morrow As it unfolds its sunny splendors wide, Over the dew-fill'd medow, drifting billow, And pluck from heaven my lost peace and pride? Won't the night betray me, yielding me Into the eternal hands of death; that when My fighting mind has stray'd away from body, I will fore'er be held in darkness then? But the night does wake me up to the day. Why then the questions do return, please say. ©️ N P Samal
I am at sixty now and life doesn't mean The same what it did mean when I was fifty, And moving farther backward, into a teen, I find each other meaning there is empty. Yet while one teen is lost in sense of rolling In mud or Another kills self if denied of smartphone using