I finished my sonnet. I finished my sonnet!
The streets outside are lost and darkling quiet
No children play or shout or sing or laugh
The birds themselves are still; and still no light
From earth falls down upon my lonely path.
I used to walk with purpose down this road;
Full of audacity, I paced the stones.
With heart I followed where you lightly strode,
And not a care to leaden weary bones.
If light is gone; yet love remains alone,
We can survive against encroaching hell.
If left unseeing when even love has flown,
What is there left? Ask not, I cannot tell.
But this I know, and sadly shall I share;
Love is but love, and sadly is it rare.