Sacred yet profane;
Faith's fair swain is slain.
Truth swells, but in vain.
In god’s holy name;
Creed’s bewitching claim
Endures, but in shame
Secret seldom told;
Handfuls have its hold,
Rest quest for grail’s gold.
A relic brewed rare
In lush soul laid bare,
Heaves dawn from despair.
Dusk frails, and meek wreak
Havoc in hell’s bleak
Abode that I seek.
Faith's Inferno
hi bw,
There are a lot of sound plays in this. I feel, with your ear for sound, an experiment - for this poem or another - would be to employ that skill in an implicit rather than explicit way. Perhaps letting the sound echoes filter through the poem, allowing space, rather than clustering in one line or stanza. In this way, creating a more subtle soundscape that doesn't draw attention to the scaffolding of end/internal rhyme/alliteration.
mac
There are a lot of sound plays in this. I feel, with your ear for sound, an experiment - for this poem or another - would be to employ that skill in an implicit rather than explicit way. Perhaps letting the sound echoes filter through the poem, allowing space, rather than clustering in one line or stanza. In this way, creating a more subtle soundscape that doesn't draw attention to the scaffolding of end/internal rhyme/alliteration.
mac