All the stars in the sky are not wanted, the injunction refuses that ending. Follow forever, remain undaunted and your heart very soon will need mending. The sequence will be always ascending, though a conclusion is constantly sought. Patterns in one who is ever-pretending endure unto the moment she is caught. Plans of pursuit and that 'hunt-the-doe' plot will motivate a determinant run. With efforts that will be spent all for naught, and so that cowardly deer, she has won. Whoso shall enlist to hunt this one yet? Not death she fears, but the life of a pet.
A Spenserian Sonnet in response to Sir Thomas Wyatt's 'Whoso List to Hunt?'