A tree blooms amid the sterile landscape -
Reaching to the sky, it claws for moisture.
Splendor 'midst the pallid monoliths; a lure
Beckoning with beauty to eyes agape
At the wonder of a life-form bound by fate.
To stand 'gainst the power of nature
And hold fast despite having no partner.
In want of a shelter and lacking escape.
'tsends a message that says, "Strength and Hope are
Currency by which we live our life, and
One must fight against all odds to stand
Against all whom would such beauty mar.
Strength then buys a future even in black of death
But in Hope, Man finds the will to fight until his final breath."

This poem is my own creation, and is written in Trochaic Pentameter (Poe used this for The Raven), as opposed to Iambic Pentameter, which is usually the norm for a Sonnet such as this. It's written mainly in Petrarchan form, except the last two lines are fourteen syllables each. I can't remember exactly, but I believe either Spencer or Shakespeare modified the Petrarchan to be fourteen on the last two. I prefer it this way because I'd like the have the last two be a little longer, it lets me fit more in (obviously). I also prefer to use the Petrarchan style where the last two lines rhyme, because the message feels less diffuse that way. The rhyme scheme is a b b a a b b a c d d c e e.

I don't know if the poem is hard to understand at all, it isn't to me, but that's probably because I wrote it. Here's the meaning: A tree stands in the midst of a city, surrounded by all the grey, emotionless buildings. Starved for most of the nutrients a tree needs to survive, choked by pollution, and alone, still it is an object of beauty. One can learn from it that even when existence is miserable, and seemingly hopeless, one should persevere even in the midst of this adversity, because while strength may be the crutch you lean on, hope is what gives you the courage to continue on, with the dream of a better future. Constructive criticism welcome in my /msgs.

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