An English Sonnet
© May 5, 2009
The Write Stuff Publishing House
…a division of VAN Enterprises

In the far distance, a bell is tolling.
I find myself listening to its sound.
Joyously ringing, its peals extolling.
Then why do I feel as if I am bound?
Bound by foreboding of what it contains,
I can do nothing but shudder with fear.
Then sounds a footfall and rattling of chains,
A presence has come and stands ever near.
Suddenly, at my door, comes death knocking.
I shan't give in to my urge to respond..
Death smiles as I leap to my door locking,
And passes through it to the room beyond.
Resigned, I sigh, and turn to my fate,
Gratefully accepting the cloak’s dark weight.