Limbus Patrum

[FranktheFrank]

Limbus Patrum (Limbo)
Sonnet

No sound, no sight, alone,
no colour, no shade of grey.
No heat, no cold, no suffering.
No consciousness, no throb
of blood. No sleep no wakefulness.
A trill – mill - illion miles of darkness.
A dark hole, no twinkle from a star,
no trailing comets from afar.

Listen, a trumpet call, “Come forth.”
I stagger out into the blinding light.
My Master stands upon the earth.
These dressing rolls are wound too tight.


*****
Note: A version of this poem has been published,
but it is so different as to constitute
an entirely new poem in my opinion.

[BobBradshaw]

Looks pretty good to me... congrats, by the way. I read the earlier version at Autumn Poetry Daily. But I think it's fine to continue to look to improve a poem after publication via workshopping.