A Shakespearean Sonnet #1
And this is the second time I slipped, but
I want to hear you sing—just one more thing.
Wouldn't matter if you carry a lot,
The melancholic melody of spring.
Dark maze of pain—the moon bathed me in dust,
The glow I've caught is flaming in my mind.
I thought I could alter things from the past,
The series of nights that I kept inside.
O', let me be your subject when you paint,
Words for your slate, with your sweet-scented blood.
I will treasure them at heart like a saint,
Even to descend me with your teardrop.
Look how this night ends! So what shall I do?
The day you bid farewell, it changed your hue.
© Razda J
#poem
#poetrylovers
#poetrycommunity
#sonnet
I want to hear you sing—just one more thing.
Wouldn't matter if you carry a lot,
The melancholic melody of spring.
Dark maze of pain—the moon bathed me in dust,
The glow I've caught is flaming in my mind.
I thought I could alter things from the past,
The series of nights that I kept inside.
O', let me be your subject when you paint,
Words for your slate, with your sweet-scented blood.
I will treasure them at heart like a saint,
Even to descend me with your teardrop.
Look how this night ends! So what shall I do?
The day you bid farewell, it changed your hue.
© Razda J
#poem
#poetrylovers
#poetrycommunity
#sonnet