Author's notes: Thank you, MikaBird, for the beta and all your support. I stole the rhythm and cadence from Shakespeare – the greatest of all wizards who ever created spells from mere words.
Sonnet No. 18 – twice
Shall I compare thee to a winter's day?
Thou art more frozen and more desperate.
Cold winds touch icicles along their way,
And cruelly break the fragile trappings in their wake.
Sometimes from cold the lake's ice cap whines,
And often is the sun's resplendence dimmed;
And every day finds thee while thou repine
Thy fate, thy destiny – a life that's skimmed.
But I hope thy eternal winter will once fade
To lose possession of that chill thou ow'st;
Tom Riddle cannot brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When smiling springtime on thy lips then glow'st:
As long as I will yearn for thee to see,
As long lives hope, and hope gives love to thee.
Shall I compare thee to an autumn's day?
Thou art more forceful and more definite.
Rough winds take coloured leaves along their way,
The days are getting short at an alarming rate.
Sometimes I hope my story will unwind,
And often rain beats down the gutter, brimmed;
And every day there's someone to remind
Me of my loyalties, about to have me trimmed.
But thy eternal loving will not fade
Nor lose possession of that hope thou ow'st;
The Dark Lord – he must wither in your shade,
When to eternal power in the end thou grow'st:
As long as you will live and yearn for me,
As long lives love, and love gives life to me.