I had to write a villanelle for my creative writing class. I've already posted the two sonnets that I've written for the class, and I think I did fairly well with the forms of those two. Neither of those poems took more than an hour and a half to write, and I didn't feel too creatively constrained by them. I had read sonnets before, and I had even taken a (sloppy) stab at the form before on this very blog. This poem, however, took me four hours all told, a lot more concentration and frustration, and I am a lot more displeased with the end result. Ugh. If you have any helpful hints with how I could improve this poem, please share.
Your withered soul detached at last,
The worms will eat your meat away.
Though you look not to Judgement Day,
And death Himself you do lambaste,
Your flesh will fall into decay.
Despite the fact you often pray,
You'll find that Death you won't outlast.
The worms will eat your meat away.
Kiss your children and spouse away.
For they will die as well; alas,
Your flesh will fall into decay
Old men realize they'll become clay;
You're young and well and think you'll last.
The worms will eat your meat away
You will be dead and gone someday,
And your present will be the past.
Your flesh will fall into decay;
The worms will eat your meat away.
"It is hard to have patience with people who say 'There is no death' or 'Death doesn't matter.' There is death. And whatever is matters. And whatever matters has consequences, and it and they are irrevocable and irreversible. You might as well say that birth doesn't matter." - C.S. Lewis
