Day 7: German Sonnet

She to his hand did fly like a glove

as together they made out unknowing

the path. Moving on ever flowing

cast about the battlefield of love,

huddled beneath, a coldness growing

of some ill intentioned idleness

driven by lust to give final twist.

A venomous nature now showing

now duly marked. Unable to miss

in the glory of egoic gain,

she refuses defeat, he the pain.

That ignorance did blossom to this

These memories washed away in rain,

moving on now but no one’s the same.

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