Something interesting I found from two years ago.
I had to write a Petrarchan (Italian) sonnet about the Hero Quest, covering especially the resisting of the call to action, the eventual acceptance and departure, the acknowledgement of difficulties the quest-taker will face, the journey inside one's soul to understand oneself, the discovery of a supreme being, and the facing and acceptance of death.
An Italian sonnet is in fourteen lines, iambic pentameter, with a strict rhyme scheme. Rereading it now, I don't like it as much as I did when I finished writing it and got my grade back. Ah, well. I am overly critical of my own writing.
Dust to Dust
O woe! I hear the call, I can't resist.
This quest, I do not want, but I must go.
O woe! My country cries for me to show
My strength, my will to fight with sword and fist.
Alas, the time has come, I must persist.
I shall depart to sounds of capon's crow
Like Job, through trials and tricks my faith must grow.
Great heroes called must brave the storms and mist.
But Hark! My Hope! My Head! My Heart does swell!
God’s love to learn and so to not live blind
Progressing on this epic I've been thrust
A journey up though Heaven, down through Hell
A quest deep into Soul, to Heart, to Mind
In death, like Yorick, ending dust to dust.
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