Poem 216 – Only in Destroying

Nor hope to be myself less miserable
By what I seek, but others to make such
As I, though thereby worse to me redound:
For only in destroying I find ease

Milton, Paradise Lost, Book IX, 126-129

Fire rage! Anger roar! Destruction make your merry way
From shore to blazing shore!
This place was once a city, but now it is but ash,
This castle was made of marble that now is scattered gravel;
Fly, spark, and ignite the languid oil;
Where sunlight once made rainbows make bright flame!
Collapse, unsightly citadels,
Wither, ignoble trees!
For only in destroying I find ease.

***

Dear readers,

We return, at last, to Satan speaking. The above quote shows a great deal of the subtlety of Milton’s description – he realises that vengeance is pointless, but still continues his destruction of heaven. A truly wonderful character; my poem has little to do with him.

Kind regards,

The Hapless Neo-Romantic

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