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.Sonnet 173
The dawn, the dawn, in other distant shores,
Methinks, is what made her to go on sprees,
If night is what she thinks that always stores,
Her fate in place called "here" if naught she flees;
For life became familiar everyday,
Contempt seemed all that it has ever brought,
The heart no longer feels promises sway,
So stranger arms, and warmer lips it sought;
But dawn breaks here, when there the sun would set,
As Persephone comes, Hades bereaved,
Those other shores, soonest would she forget,
Dead dreams replaced with visions now conceived;
......Though night might again come as day is spent,
......Dawn follows right after, as things have went.
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.
.
.Sonnet 173
The dawn, the dawn, in other distant shores,
Methinks, is what made her to go on sprees,
If night is what she thinks that always stores,
Her fate in place called "here" if naught she flees;
For life became familiar everyday,
Contempt seemed all that it has ever brought,
The heart no longer feels promises sway,
So stranger arms, and warmer lips it sought;
But dawn breaks here, when there the sun would set,
As Persephone comes, Hades bereaved,
Those other shores, soonest would she forget,
Dead dreams replaced with visions now conceived;
......Though night might again come as day is spent,
......Dawn follows right after, as things have went.
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