Thursday, August 3, 2017

The Pains of Love: A Sonnet

Oh love, how I do suffer to be thine,
With sharp afflictions tormenting my form.
Without thy love, the shivers rush my spine
Like biting frozen cake I thought was warm.
The longing of my heart, it pulls at me
Much like my sock doth tug my hanging nail.
Thou knowest not how I have burned for thee,
Like chili pepper scorching my entrail.
The pain I feel, how reminiscent of
My neck’s mild pang from sleeping on it funny.
If thou shalt not consent to share my love,
I’ll melt with sorrow like a nose that’s runny.
I hope my meaning thou canst soon unriddle—
I dieth for thy love, but just a little.

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