Sonnet I:I

Why is there a pang within my bosom

When you are acquainted with another?

Such nuisance and I could not fathom

It just felt like drowning in a river.

I need to know what I find enchanting

From your presence which I could not resist,

Yet when you gaze back I turn to my wing

And in haste flee to distant mountain mist.

Bloten but craven and hurt all the same,

Mortal sentiments fill my existence.

The gods truly mad for their cruel game

Set upon me, hapless mortal, so dense.

All for a breathing art by happenstance

I'm still so fond of even in distance.