Danny, James Archer
The dark sonnet
Oh the nights are callous things,
they plot to take us down.
As the bell of time chime’s and rings,
night’s eyes will prompt some abstract nouns.
See how birds fly in the day,
at night they turn to black.
Darkness leads us to dismay,
and memories rush back.
And then, for once a happy thought,
brings light into the dark,
all the love for which I fought,
seems now not just a lark.
As though as darkness’ sweet embrace, l
ight come to form in the darkest place.
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