Sonnet 506

Oft treasonous of love, yes this be true,
A vassal there of passion my defense;
Yet through it all I did remain with you
Cowardly callous to my grave offense.
The blood of youth runs hot and so esteems
Brute rendering of flesh in love and war,
Upon the denouement, such lurid scenes
Score deep the mind where probity abhors;
True love prevails when lacerations heal
And wounded hearts may yet unite again,
There from travails, the stronger joint to feel
Annealed by time to better fate contend.
Drop hammer cast, in hope we journey forth
Or bonds so forged be damned to nothing worth.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

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