Sonnet to Isabella

Note: This poem is under revision for future publication potential. It reflects a highly crafted work, and be only available for members until it is submitted for publication. All works of this type will be removed from this site before submitting for traditional publication. Medium membership is $5/month or $50/annual, and every member view gives me part of that fee — thank you for your contribution to my career!

Author Note: I wrote this sonnet as a response to“The Castle of Otranto” by Horace Walpole. This is written from the perspective of Manfred, king of Otranto, to his late son’s betrothed, Isabella, to whom he is forcing himself upon. If you have read my work, you will note that I do not in any way condone masculine force over feminine will; this is written in the perspective of the character, and does not reflect my personal views.

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A son’s love crush’d, your charm steers my intents –

Isabelle, take heart, open your door to me!

Darken’d woe guides men toward darker sense;

For tragedy, fate’s entwin’d mine to thee.

Blessed purpose serv’d, not of your design,

Divine Father his will o’er each our own;

Driv’n as the hound, I chase lest ye decline

A sacred kiss — or to nip your fox’s down!

Your eyes of such color, your hair so long,

Makes for ideal stock and what I require.

As you were Eve, make right this foulest wrong –

Refuse me in great risk of damned fire!

Take me thus, be rais’d above all other:

Paint your likeness o’er his dearest mother.