Oh, my God. Poetry. From me, the completely poetry incapable. This is actually a project for school. Everyone had to write a sonnet, whether it be Shakespearian, Petrarchan, or Spenserian. Having absolutely no clue what to write about (seeing as I couldn't think a funny or satirical topic), I reverted to generic Cloud-Angst. My teacher never has to know... I hope you enjoy this 14 line thing (and feedback would be greatly appreciated).
Do you under those cursèd depths still lie?
A stunning flower I thought you to be
(Those waters muffled this sorrowful cry),
And then I wonder'd could sweet you still see?
My love, a frozen flower are you now,
Yet I, the worthless weed, survived that frost.
A day not passes when ask I, "Oh, how?
Oh, why did you fall?" I wish I was lost.
Describe me not as sanguine, dear, for I
Long have hope lost, but my hands have long been
By blood all stain'd. Unworthy e'en to sigh,
Watch I this lake cover'd by ice so thin.
---One thing can cross the dreadèd Styx so wide:
---My endless love for you long hid inside.