Sonnet 442

This love for you, my mortal life I pledge
That every day is labored for your cause,
And of such service that be owed ‘til death,
No second of this promise shall bear pause.
What is true love if not a fealty grand,
An honored vow to best all worldly bond,
An attestation sure to ever stand
Until both love and lover cross beyond.
No clearer truth for which to live or die,
No earthly worth of greater consequence,
No prouder purpose for which hearts may vie,
No finer trust on which should faith entrench.
Without this blessing, life is but a span
And has no meaning, save that it began.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

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