Sonnet 1

Sonnet 1

Catherine Van Haute

Sun, why doth thou set? You’ve robbed me of bliss!

Anguish takes thine place, roaring rash rebukes,

I’ve been left to rot here in this abyss,

While shadows on chilling walls give me spooks.

Malice, leave me be, let me die in peace.

You take, you take, you take; I’m left cold, numb.

Tell me, this torment, will it ever cease?

This evil, shall I never overcome?

A dreamer I am; to the stars I gaze.

Orion I see, off’ring his hand,

Cassiopiea, save me from this haze,

I’ll dwell in the heavens, far from wasteland.

When darkness shrouds, light will bestow a rope;

So against reason and good sense, do hope.