Form: Curtal Sonnet
The empty gulf is left by broken dreams
The heart will beat without a cause to care
Despair incites the wrath to flow in streams
In blackest waters, hatred makes its lair.
The mind awaits the beautiful demise
That blades of death will bring at setting sun.
The bluest flames of hell make no goodbyes
As eyes, once bright, the blackened soul will shun.
At last my psyche is free from in my head
A welcome peace discharges from life… I’m dead!