A silence fell upon the city,

contorted shadows twisting moonlight.

Stuttering in a speakeasy seemed so misplaced

bottles rattled flickering like Fedora feathers

in an unforgiving wind.

The wretched odour of deprivation

a stench that sticks and degrades ones existence.

Even by day this city remains a lifeless sap

and by night the vampires feast on th...

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Sonnets are meant to be about romance

and love.

You know? All that's good.

But why should form be contained,

can one not make love to the page

in their own expression?

I can,

and will.

Imagination like a dodgems car,

wild yet bumpy.

And I guess that's what love is,

you can try to steer in the right direction

but there will always be obstacl...

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