a satirical and cynical sonnet
I may not know if Love may lead to madness,
For he who madness bears is ignorant
Of if he thinks in sanity and soundness
Or maddened thoughts in this deceive him verdant.
I may not validate th’ verisimilitude
Of this common claim to Love’s duplicity
For I stand a subjugated subject to Solitude,
In Love with oneness, unknowing th’ veracity.
Perhaps I may be mad to say I’m mad
Or mad to be in love with Loneliness;
Perhaps it’s Love himself that drives me mad
Or merely Solitude too much for wits.
I cannot say if love to madness moves;
I only know that madness leads to love.