.
.
.Sonnet 178
I trod on memories in foggy lanes,
Marked by shredded dreams strewn along the way,
A glimmer sheds its light on love that wanes,
To bring recall, without which hearts can stray;
For thus, shadows are cleared from misty past,
Where gossamer of doubt has spun so thick,
Now covering the truth, it riles aghast,
That lamp so pure had burned with liars' wick;
Oblivion balms the cruel stripes of Fate,
To numb the pain that from the blows proceeds,
Or may requite the coast that waves vacate,
So bare, when ebbing tide of love recedes;
.....Memories a lifetime make, till undone,
.....By strings of broken hearts till fog is gone.
.
.
.
.
.Sonnet 178
I trod on memories in foggy lanes,
Marked by shredded dreams strewn along the way,
A glimmer sheds its light on love that wanes,
To bring recall, without which hearts can stray;
For thus, shadows are cleared from misty past,
Where gossamer of doubt has spun so thick,
Now covering the truth, it riles aghast,
That lamp so pure had burned with liars' wick;
Oblivion balms the cruel stripes of Fate,
To numb the pain that from the blows proceeds,
Or may requite the coast that waves vacate,
So bare, when ebbing tide of love recedes;
.....Memories a lifetime make, till undone,
.....By strings of broken hearts till fog is gone.
.
.
.