1. Sonnet
Through the glass I am blinded by,
A cool glass lies with fire.
So looms the mirror of you, my burning eye.
To blink would wash away the golden tears, drier
than the sunburnt sky, than the auburn pyre
of yesterday.
Yet my gaze will never tire, weakened by a thoughtless cry.
The words I dare to say look away as my lashes fly.
1. Sonnet
Through the glass I am blinded by,
A cool glass lies with fire.
So looms the mirror of you, my burning eye.
To blink would wash away the golden tears, drier
than the sunburnt sky, than the auburn pyre
of yesterday.
Yet my gaze will never tire, weakened by a thoughtless cry.
The words I dare to say look away as my lashes fly.