So sweet thy sonnet,
into the vast catacombs of my ears,
traversing paths and patterns,
that are archetypes of Brimstone and Fire.
I can only look into your face,
and see, what you want me to see,
I am no mind reader, so speak thine heart,
If it is good news or bad news,
do tell me honestly and without the cutting of merciless words.
So demure thee sonnet,
traversing a million stars down,
rivers of Brimstone and Fire.
I love thee, in every look and touch,
see me for what I offer and feel.
Judge my worth and then tell me,
do not preclude polite fiction,
for your Brimstone is my heart's Sonnet.
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