The Passing of the Torch

From high up on my Father’s throne I sit,  

Reluctant to this burden pass along;     

For no one in my Kingdom yet seems fit.

A weight of worlds for me to lay upon

The back of he who takes this noble throne

(Heredity for he the fates have spun),

Through Hierarchy he’s forced to make his own.

The father’s end marks when the Son’s begun.

As Iapetus wept for his punished son,

So do I look down upon my own kin

And fear to know that when my time is done,

My burnt out torch I will then pass to him.

But when that sun for me, as all, doth fade

It is my Son that makes me unafraid.

Author's Note

A Sonnet written on 10/26/2016

Reviews

[emipoemi]

Brilliant sonnet! There's of course the cheat rhyme of "along" with "upon", but the fact that you also for the first two quatrains stop the main thoughts on the third lines, the musicality and flow of the sonnet ends up glossing over that factor. And the story it tells is very well-crafted! I especially love the play on sounds in the last two lines with "sun" and "son". Absolutely well done!