She stands there naked underneath the moon
Its light reflects the paleness of her skin
A goddess lost, her marvel came too soon
She searches Magiks buried deep within,
The frightful frigid winds whip and punish
Determination, keeps her steadfast, strong-
Standing tall although she’s gripped by anguish
Anchored by the memoir of his last song.
There-replaying sweet harmonic mem’ries
Awaiting for sweet death to reunite
Child like, helpless praying for her mercies
Deafened by her helpless, hapless plight
“One day” she whispers tears stream down her cheek
“I’ll curse the ones who say to love is weak”.
English Shakesperian sonnet…written in Iambs…and needs help with flow!