Sonnet 553

So do I love you now, as ever, more
And nay, it matters not if you love me
For unrequited, yet I bear the scorn—
So indivisible this pledge to thee.
Here bid me leave and heavy I shall go,
Or tell me stay, profoundly I rejoice;
To love’s command my future I bestow
So be that power in my lover’s voice.
Love’s grace is not contingent on a plan
Nor does it bide upon some sole decree,
It is a force ethereal and grand
That binds like souls in peerless harmony;
By word alone I here so live or die:
Love is to be, and never wonder why.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

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