The spirit freed by man

Ariel, the spirit freed by man,

From  Tempest  to the work of Sylvia Plath

Made famous as a horse on which she ran

In such bitter, suicidal wrath.

Or was this  a rebirth that never came

The risk she took,  a gamble,  careless,wry.

For death of body is no children’s game

And from a  husband  brings a hellish sigh.

Was this a test to see if we survive;

As madmen  may stick knives into their hearts

To see the blood is real and so derive

A knowledge that they live and are a part?

The test we make to see if we’re not dead

May kill us and so end  the work of God.