Sonnets- XLI, XLII
Your castle felt the ocean’s grief below—
My ground, O how one’s life could change without
The vision to one’s fate or even doubt—
Was nothing to consider as a foe?
‘Pon seeing your old tainted isle--with low
Resistance to its ill, it should be spout—
Aloud! (‘Cause there are words without a mouth)
To utter what we’ve felt; things we don’t know.
Yet love has its own vigor to amend—
Such destiny or re-affirm its weight?
The mirror of our life’s mistake must end
Its anger--for acceptance is not late—
For both of us, with trust that cannot bend
By woes or cancer from the past ablate.
Now looking at the fraction ornament—
Of each and everything that's being left
Inside this shadow box where seasons kept—
Their fragile form, it was so imminent
On visage of your current state, not meant—
To last when all is late against this theft
Who stole your smile; and let it be in depth?
The Algeas’ words have harsh predicament.
But life has its own pendant hanging on—
The edge of splitting chain with adamant—
Approach to what we prayed, and what we want.
Thus, there are traces of last hope (emerged)
Those vapors from your frailties--see their dawn,
Would change the phase free from to what we urged.
(c) 2018 Veronica Gray
© 2018 amberdusk
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