In college, I endeavored to write a sonnet a week. The process soon proved tiresome. This was my final entry in the series.
Thinking he has killed the hero of the story, the Black Knight delivers an impromptu soliloquy filled with regret and disappointment.
One morning while at college, I was lying on my bed and staring at the ceiling when a spider caught my attention. This is that story in sonnet form.
This is a sonnet that I wrote with the hope of avoiding accusations of sentimentality, knowing full well that I’m a sentimental fellow.