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 - 12. drink the stars their fill
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Sonnet No. 23
Your voice is the voice of an angel, but
The tone of which makes the temple rock,
For scripture says both church and tomb will strut
To a trumpet call, and the world restock.
But when your fine treble sounds in my ear
The future opens 'fore me like a book –
The story of which will end every fear
To confirm my path is the right one took.
So what matters if the stones themselves shake,
And everything that had substance once
Will reconcile and find itself awake,
Though with blinking eye, we'll all look the dunce.
But in that moment, I will also know,
It was you who called me, and will gladly go.
Sonnet No. 24
Standing at your open window, I see
You bathe the sultry summer night with sighs
And only those born of anguish can be
More tormented than hell with all its lies.
You are lost, you feel your orbit is fixed
By the locking grasp of some heavy hand,
Strangling by the evils they enlist,
And stymied with all things they demand.
But in the night's warm, let yourself surrender,
For even then, I will be with you still –
If sad, then two hearts will grow tender;
If glad, four eyes will drink the stars their fill.
God gave us hearts so we could love and feel
Joys and ache on His scale of hurt and heal.
_
- 7
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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