Night's Vice

A sonnet composed of questionable thoughts.

As surely as the summer arrive

And the sun graces every soft bloom

So sure thy face Night shall revive

And save from your impending doom

And so the Night shall question

Why she is called by sister Death

To act only on her dark discretion

And to steal away life's breath

To give life is her virtue

To sequester it her vice

And although she fails to tell the truth

All Death wants is to be alive

So fear not Night, who enlivens, not kills

Unless she acts on the orders of Death to carry out her will

Reviews

[Ranger Nadaly]

Reread the first line.
Nice poem. Cute and entertaining. Seems so matter of fact-ley to me. I like that.