ISSUE IV - Liberty, My Lover: A Sonnet, by Ethan Yang

By Ethan Yang, China

Liberty, My Lover (Sonnet I)

Sonnet in Iambic Pentameter

Art thou not the hardest to find in here,

So close, yet far, and hath eluded me,

The hearts of in-noble men to find and tear,

Seeing all, yet seeing none, where’t thou be?

For are you not of the epitome?

Of grace, of freedom, everything held true,

And against it lies no true blasphemy,

Yet so rare, so pure, hard as beaten yew;

To release the shackles from the people,

To vote, to exercise the rights of man,

But unreachable it is, so feeble,

A triumph, yet an early one to pan.

Do be cautious, lest this be forgotten;

Without great pain was this not begotten.