Note- My muse has struck me! My fingers are flyin'! Read please?! First
attempt at a sonnet. Don't thrash it too badly... Christine's Gala
performance.
I stand here alone on an empty stage,
I want my Master to take me away.
I do not want to sing; sing in her stead.
I want to go home and lie in my bed.
I'm exhausted and tired and weary,
My body aches and I see less clearly.
How did I get here, did I go by choice?
But in this silence, I hear his soft voice.
It fills me with inspiration and hope,
Fills my empty heart, my head, and my throat.
His melody possesses me completely,
Guiding me to eminent victory.
I quickly fall under his mighty spell,
As to why, exactly, I cannot tell.
attempt at a sonnet. Don't thrash it too badly... Christine's Gala
performance.
I stand here alone on an empty stage,
I want my Master to take me away.
I do not want to sing; sing in her stead.
I want to go home and lie in my bed.
I'm exhausted and tired and weary,
My body aches and I see less clearly.
How did I get here, did I go by choice?
But in this silence, I hear his soft voice.
It fills me with inspiration and hope,
Fills my empty heart, my head, and my throat.
His melody possesses me completely,
Guiding me to eminent victory.
I quickly fall under his mighty spell,
As to why, exactly, I cannot tell.
