A Sonnet of Labour

A Sonnet Of Labour

Mortals of task and of worth!

Thou job infinitely forth.

Hath thou made thine love unfailing for the third?

Regardless of the attitude of and eagle bird?

Thou art static of task but mime,

To see the fertile sublime,

Thou love to labour and labour to love,

Unlike peasants who never ever but shove.

Is love anything but an unerring light?

Which restricts us from having a fight

O God of Mercy and of mirth,

Shower thine heart over thy immortal earth.

Shower down the divine melody, over truly fertile mortals

And boast about hell to those who condemn them

Long live! O Mortals of task and of worth..

Composed by Pranav Kumar ‘Pathak’