|Title:||The Metaphorical Disease - A sonnet on mental illness second draft.|
What wholesome root that twists and seeks the light|
That offers truth as something drear and black?
This human glare of rational insight,
Heaps medicís faith upon innocentís backs.
Puerile drugs, camphor derived, induced fits;
Horseblood needles, malarial airing
When conscience allows what science commits
What comfort offered to the most despairing?
But Revelation is no fixed crystal
Far more a sanctum of organic growth
The seed through which the green vigour is distilled
Gives peace beyond the meaning of an oath:
When all truth is shadow except the last
To seek fast refuge, then forgive the past....