A sonnet:
While late at night turns into early day,
Languid darkness fading into blue,
I cannot seem to figure out a way
To train my mind toward anything but you.
The sky is lighter now, the world has shape
Dawn emerges from the Eastern sea.
And still you’ve not attempted to escape
My thoughts or any other part of me.
No matter how the decades will unfold,
This was never lost or wasted time.
Look back upon these days when you grow old,
And know our love, though fleeting, was sublime.
A stubborn silver clings onto the night
I’ll always miss this early morning light.
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