Sonnet 3 (A Choice To Make) Poem by Arnav Penrhythm

Time walks slow, but heart rhythms fast
This lone gift of yours despairs and prick
The sensation! No, pray don’t make last
Come thou close if memories not thee pick
But do what thee, just carry me one
Save another be cherished by me
For takest both, then I shall be none
Of heart; sound; perfume; sense and of see
Love thee much my only sweet O’ love
Repair to me aid from this pain - I fall
Bring the sun of May me blossoming Jove!
Kiss me with thine eyes – if art thou shalt?
My lines speak my want, just thee peruse
With eyes of love and not for thy muse….