Writing Sonnets For My Beloved

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Writing sonnets for my beloved
But I cannot speak in pentameters
The lines & sentiment lost on my tongue
Erasing the stray marks upon the parameters

Mother Nature is exhausted
Discovering it’s time to hibernate
Humble beauty of the landscape
Folding into herself unto the infinite

Hearing the last strains of Autumn
But the air is still hot
Clinging to a customary belief
While we hide behind a fig leaf
But we all know leaves fall and rot

Imperial City Coins Clink In Your Pocket

Imperial city coins clink in your pocket
Orwellian flaws litter winter’s landscape
Thick fisherman’s sweater to fight the cold
Feigning steps upon the tragic lady’s cape

Black soot marring the evening sky
Told her you were king of Earth, not the salt
Misdirection will only get you so far in life
Lies & deception will still remain your fault