Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
One Hundred and Fifty-Five Sonnets - 63. when
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Sonnet No. 125
I will lay me down one sheet at a time,
For you are master-poet of my heart,
When the humble form of me as your rhyme
Twains a start with an end that will not part.
Only your true words of love are music
To a soul in fear that such things can fade,
For like a beast, I crave the most basic
Strains of but the sweetest joy to be played.
But, alas – now I know I ask too much;
Set me up for a fall I will regret;
Yet hope, damn him, will always seek a touch
To beat back annihilation's hungry threat.
So I circle back to nowhere again –
And perhaps did nothing but drain my pen.
Sonnet No. 126
I want to overrun your defenses,
Rush at your walls till they come tumbling down,
Till my trumpet blast, soft as a murmur says,
You can't resist the greatness of my renown.
In many ways, my boy is now a man,
For pride rises to consider your strength
Like a fatherly boast that it was my plan
To bring you thus far, so you'd go the whole length.
As I storm and win your love and self-control,
You cede to me everything that matters –
Your mind, your heart, and your body and soul,
And there I leave your false fronts in tatters,
Not a victory for me alone,
But for you, it proves how you have grown.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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