“Sonnet to Deception”
This lover’s tale is one that’s beastly bold.
His eyes are like a glowing, singing choir
as near her hearth, his craft of wanton fire.
He captures soon her heart; his lies unfold.
So slips the frenzied man with brazen soul
into the innocent lured by the liar.
And in his craftiness but one desire;
to take her; then to crush her in the cold.
Now blows the winter’s rain against the pane.
Now, nothing gained but ashes in the grate.
Now crying and a tapping heard again;
he’s searching for the same unblemished fate.
Naivete is halted and is slain
as now she listens; not with love, but hate.