Quiet shall I be, or shall I speak?

original sonnets

How many times have nothing I to say
As acolyte to wonder I become
Through night's eclipse & light's oe'rblinding ray
Perfection doth emerge, es'teric sum.

How many moons engulfed in swirling cloud
Possessesd by stumbling and uncertain gait
To fervent, reach my fingers towards the shroud
And bid pale courage rise my soul to sate.

Yet lowly mind assessed the veil to glint,
"Majestic luminance that strode on high"
And thus my hand retract from power sent
Constrained in mediocrity to die.

For faith that I forsook abandoned me,
And in that void, released, I became free.

The liberty to speak or keep the peace
Doth stalk the kind, harrass the passing meek
While from the bold it slinks its course to cease
Repelled by constant noise of riotous reek.

The hum of quietude which beckons song
Doth perk its ears when loving spirits laugh
And register the precious words not long
Which gentle ones emit, devoid of chaff.

But down the gavels called by cruel machine,
To slam their harsh and dissonant reports.
The arrogant aloof their feathers preen
Pronouncing they themselves the greatest sorts.

So let them be the most in their domain,
And leave us in the love of sweet refrain.