Sonnet- Give The Soul Its Due Place

The Old World-Order's disappearing fast;
New one emerging ain't aright, Alas!
Man's soul in severe unrest has got cast;
The gloom anew has got to someday pass.

Great strides are made by Man in Science, may be;
All things he does have demerits/ merits;
Yet, where’s the bliss and life's security?
Man cannot give up his old bad habits.

Man disbelieves his neighbour tho' a friend;
There is no freedom in the real sense;
Life's sense of values are nearing their end;
A World corruption-free ought to commence.
Regain must soul its tenor and import,
When God returns to dwell in this old fort.

poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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