...The story of a girl in London, England


Sonnet 40


You light a candle, brightening the room.

Yet wavering, a flickered, fickle flame

It licks and laps the blackness—but it soon

Departs, as wick is burned, and dark remains.

And even forest fires find an end,

Though hours, days, their burning passion flies

Along the slopes and mountains, which they rend

With fury that consumes itself and dies.

But sun, you cannot darken, cannot hide.

Behind the clouds or earth, it’s burning still.

The rays of light upon the ether glide

And nothing can remove it, nothing will.

Despite the obstacles of time and space,

My love for you, it cannot be replaced.

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