We Be Catching Giants

We pull and gasp, in short, an introduction

to sing the fray our tender ropes will burn.

Descendants ought to put their hands to function,

but never they the splitting end discern.

We shout of those we capture; lay at rest

when yet we still have not ourselves found peace.

In searching out the wave, we miss the crest,

And sit and stretch while eating false release.

Of power drunk’dness, say our foes, we are,

but blurry vision keeps our ears yet deaf.

The fires burn their truths, and seeing stars,

there’s nothing bright as black in charcoal left.

                Our reins are taut on broadly shouldered giants.

                The final pulls will be our dark’ning lights.

This is just a first draft of a sonnet for creative writing two. I won't tell you what I meant by it, because I will not always be present for my readers! But, yes. I think I will like this class.