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I go incircles for the clock is in twelve
Abusing the moments Yea! my time pendant
Thus,restraining your blemish the prudence to blot

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The sweet sweet lullabies, and the soothing words in shelves
Keep echoing my heart,how susceptible its to the rots
I made you my queen so you took me for a treasured-peasant

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You plagued me your freights
And left me in the dark,passions drunk in passions,its was all lust
When I fell flat to your vintage-wine dust
So day after day,and night after night,you rouse me to blate
The thousand tempest tears
That noveled the stories the wretch fear-ed
But,though I'm lost in lust, and of no home
You mean everything to me,so I shall still search,for you,my throne






○Untitled○

○Historian E●Lexano○

It's a sonnet...14 lines
Divided into six lines○sextave
And 8 lines ○octave