For is your sweetness born of strife and pain?
A bleeding wound brought forth by razor lips.
Like oceans drowning 'neath the heaven's rain,
Your soul, it now upon these shadows sips?
But do those shadows quench that burning thirst?
Or does it, like a lonely dune, persist?
And empty rooms may close upon you cursed,
But soon the light will burn away the mist.
For in you burns the flames of loves unrest,
The burning pyres releasing you to dream.
Don't let lies sleep heavy upon your breast,
When breaking through is easy as a scream.
.....So scream upon the breaking of the day,
.....And drop your chains and let them fall away.

© 2009
All rights reserved

Cool sonnet, man. Iambic pentameter?