The open gates tell me I must stay
or be devoured by the lightning ray
The flowers do sprout in the springs of May
only to dwell by the end of the day

Why did you take a different turn
in hopes of getting back?
Headed to the point of no return,
you've bleached the mirthful black

I can't keep up with your speedy pace
that's blinded by beauty, salvaged by grace
There's only so much that I could erase
the only exception is your face

On shallow waters, you've hidden something
whereas every ship mysteriously sank
Spheres will always withold a 'something'
For now I see, it's not as blank.

Caught amid a raging storm,
we mused if to delay
that its eye had yet to take on form
we surge–come what may

The threat of doom, its whereabouts
had flown beneath our feet
may it take away these petty doubts
and let winding roads meet.

You were but a stranger
radiating the empty sky,
dwindling the hours
whenever I felt transparent.

On thin, white sheets, today, I lay
Each IV drop, brings me dismay
There's something I have longed to say...
You pull the plug and make my day.

(a Shakespearean sonnet by MysticRiddleton)

Lake of mirror from beneath,
On thee reclines the wet gray cotton sea
Glowing faintly overneath
Projects penumbras of the tree
Pictures alter by the angle
Heaven slithers swift as I
Near and closely leans in angle
Sees thy creature eye to eye
Alas! The radiance that makes thee luster
Decides to pluck thee bit by bit
Pictures fading by the mirror
Lake of mirror, be not beat!
Keep thy stagnant lake, oh mirror
Let thou ripple with some vapor.