A sonnet to happiness.

Whenceforth do deeds on subatomic planes
- Which upon execution seeming meek -
Find strength to placate stresses all and strains
That fall upon a person week by week?

Wherefore does bathing with a sweet bouquet
Of rose petals and daisies soothe the soul?
And music notes erratic in array
Discover patterns to remake one whole?

And how does reading prose or poetry
Release all melancholia within?
And wherefore does th'imbibement of hot tea
Heal fears alike of sacrifice and sin?

And while, dear friend, we journey on through hell,
I hope small joys your sadness too will quell.

The End

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