Sonnet 24 - Sacrifice

She was never really mine though, for a
time, I hoped she’d be. She was all my soul
and all remains. But each new sunlit day,
that bright lady wakes by you as you roll

out of bed to begin your work, never
knowing Beauty as she would know you. Not
one for sharing warmth, you’ll never shiver
as cold sorrow pursues you. You forgot

what magic waits in those arms, that smile, those
eyes. I’d shake you back to passion for her
sake. We all deserve love. It only grows
in the giving and she deserves better.

If I were blessed with that lady’s clean, pure
devotion, I’d return to her, love her.