Saturday, September 11, 2010

Sonnet III

The silent still abandon in the chill of the air
Ice over your heart so there's nothing left to keep
Thoughts run dry, and trees are left bare
A moan, once a song; a slump, once a leap

Death and decay in the heart of your soul
Your thoughts where once free; now they're roped in
Where there was once laughter, now such a toll
Only to see that your eyes are still open

A scene I once had in my head, picture-perfect
There was you and I, till the coldness set in
Then there was nothing, my defect, this effect
Love runs dry like the ink of a pen

     Even if forced, by my own coercion
     The winter's set in and there's a diversion

Bah, I hate my poetry. I've written two sonnets before, both about words and writing, so I figured I'd try my hand at a love sonnet. I hate the line with the pen, because it has nothing to do with the rest of it, but I really could not think of a single thing that rhymed with 'in.' Maybe I'll have a stroke of brilliance during the night and find the perfect line. Mayhaps. We'll see. Maybe it's better if you just don't read it at all.


  1. I actually downright love it, especially the line about the pen...

    wait, aren't sonnets supposed to be in Iambic Pentameter?

  2. wow. thats a SONNET? you disgrace writers everywhere. i mean, the pen line was one of the better ones, but your criticism of it was relatively accurate. the entire sonnet just sounds wrong. there is no feeling behind it. you said it was a love sonnet, but why did you write it? for the purpose of writing a love sonnet? pathetic.