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Literature Text
We just can't stop, won't stop, don't stop running:
though amidst the tempest warning glares seek.
Only to be stopped by stars so stunning;
Imps watching, hungry for her heart's deceit.
Gauzed with trepidation, our Angel falls:
ringlets resting amongst autumn-kiss leaves.
A voice, singing soft, while her small heart calls
amidst this silent lovely autumn breeze.
Her Hallowed voice rung through desolate fields:
through the vacant blossoms and empty blooms.
Hear this moonlight, it shall be not a shield
among this darkness, among this dark gloom.
Pump her heart once; it cannot beat alone,
her binding tethers loose; now, may she roam.
though amidst the tempest warning glares seek.
Only to be stopped by stars so stunning;
Imps watching, hungry for her heart's deceit.
Gauzed with trepidation, our Angel falls:
ringlets resting amongst autumn-kiss leaves.
A voice, singing soft, while her small heart calls
amidst this silent lovely autumn breeze.
Her Hallowed voice rung through desolate fields:
through the vacant blossoms and empty blooms.
Hear this moonlight, it shall be not a shield
among this darkness, among this dark gloom.
Pump her heart once; it cannot beat alone,
her binding tethers loose; now, may she roam.
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Comments6
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I'm not a fan of sonnets in general, and it's late so I barely skimmed this one, so I can't really comment on this in particular, but it reminded me of the only sonnet I ever wrote. It was called sonnet fifty-something, I think and was about how many sonnets the speaker had written...lol.
I've a feeling it wasn't that great of a piece.
I've a feeling it wasn't that great of a piece.