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A Sonnet
I know not how he bore the loss of her.
To live on as life’s meaning swift departs.
His mad heart must’ve bled from the torture.
Is agony all memory imparts?
Her scent, her laughter, lingered all around.
A broken man sits, void of emotion;
Drink numbing the longing of lovesick wounds.
To exist now held no expectation
Many a tear wasted, gone and away,
Let love be buried, lain with her to rot.
Oh, how heaven keeps his treasure at bay!
What a sad ending their passion has wrought.
He lies down, accepting life without her;
Forgetting that true love can never die.
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