Sonnet- Xiv Poem by Sherwin Ilagan

The metamorphosis achiev'd its eve
And never is the blinded lover's eye
To trace the trails of love that might perceive,
An isolation state! To seek is nigh.
Death; unto brief affairs a distant sleep-
Of being lost, won't comprehend the tone?
So little is the chance to rise from deep;
As for the love of thee I cannot own.
Hence my departed verse to thee I quote
Perhaps thine ivory revives its glow?
The herald from mine heart is what I wrote
Thy glistening approach against the flow;

To feel the mutual embrace (conceal'd)
Appraisal to my will as thou reveal'd.