I am writing a sonnet every week for a year. Each will depict a different form of love. As a collection, they will demonstrate the multifaceted, multifarious, multiplicitous nature of that simple word.
Here’s the first:
Love is a Beast
Love is a beast that crushes doting hearts;
Can catch the flighty flirt god in its fist
And force that youth to loose his lightweight darts –
A needle storm, with every dreamer kissed.
They say Love’s blind, they’re right, but not by choice:
It does not wear a mask through which it peeks,
But feels instead for prey, then with full voice
Roars to declare it owns the souls it seeks.
Love backs off not from armies in bold garb
Nor flees when discord mountains do erupt.
Its Titan hide cannot be pierced by barbs;
No poison can its monstrous heart corrupt.
But tiny sparks do not fear Love’s great size,
Its thick arms fan the fire so flames can rise.