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Italian Sonnet

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1Italian Sonnet Empty Italian Sonnet on Fri Jan 15, 2010 8:43 am


As soft as a rose’s petal are thee

Though filled with salt and vinegar thee are

Thy beauty does nay compare near nor far

Yet thy scornful hatred blinds all that see

I can nay escape thy prison with thee

Lust and passion did thee construct thy bar

Strength of a warrior would nay go far

And one would nay know if thee would want free

With all this said I bring welcome to death

For if I can nay have the perfect wench

Then there be no need for me and my seed

So with this sword I bring forth my last breath

And concoct the vigor to quell this stench

For once the deed is done I will be freed

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