𝐃𝐈𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐎𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐘

I. 𝐓𝐞𝐫𝐳𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐦𝐚 – 𝐅𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞

Alas! What fire could blaze so fierce and true,
It scorched my soul with pain I cannot name, 
A fevered night that pierced my being through,          
You rose from mist, a breath of sacred flame,             
Grief shaped your form with sorrow’s silent art,
Affliction carved your beauty, not your shame.
With quiet strength, you bore the burning heart,
Your golden brow like Chawngmawii did shine,
Through haze of tears, a light no dark could part.
The moon bent low to kiss your face divine,
Your weary eyes still held the silver sky,
And from your night, arose a morning sign.

II. 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬!

(Heroic Couplet -AABBCCDDEE)

What burning fever blazed so fierce, it scorched my soul anew?

A night so wild with fevered flame—how deeply it pierced through!

From the trembling mist of a fevered breath, you rose like sacred fire,

Grief and affliction carved your form with sorrowful desire.

Yet none could wear such pain as you, with grace and quiet might,

Your beauty crowned in suffering, your soul a burning light.

Your golden brow, like Chawngmawii’s, shone through the haze of tears,

As if the moon had kissed your face and brushed away its fears.

Even your weary eyes reflect the heaven’s silver gleam,

And from your nightly torment, hope erupts like morning’s dream!

III. 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐭 – 𝐅𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞

What fire unseen did scorch her gentle frame,         That even night withdrew in silent dread?     

Her cheeks were flushed, her tears unsweetly shed,   

Yet in her eyes, the stars still softly flame.

Though fever wrapped her in its ruthless claim,

No word of pain escaped the lips she bled;

She bore it all with quiet, shining head,

A goddess hidden in a world of flame.          
The moon bent low to touch her burning brow, 

And kissed her with the calm of silver light;         Her pain, though deep, could not consume her now,

For dawn arose and broke her endless night.                

(Petrarchan sonnet form, which consists of an octave (8 lines) following the ABBAABBA rhyme scheme, and a sestet (6 lines) that can vary in rhyme (commonly CDECDE or CDCDCD).

IV. 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐭 – 𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧

What fever scorched her soul in silent flame,         

That even night withdrew in trembling awe?        

She bore it not in tears, but strength and law,      

A quiet grace that suffering could not tame.          

Her breath, though labored, whispered not her shame,   

But rose like mist from fields the storm would claw,       

Her brow aglow as myths that old songs draw,        

A Chawngmawii reborn in deathless name.       

The moon bends low to kiss her aching head,        

Her eyes reflect the stars' eternal ache;            

Yet even in her pain, no word was pled.         

From out her night, the golden morning break,       And light blooms forth from every wound she bled.  

V. "𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬"

Heroic Quatrain with iambic pentameter

She wept in pain when no one saw,

Beneath the moon’s indifferent glow—

Each breath a war, each night a claw,

That tore her soul in silent woe.

For six long months, the bed her cage,

Yet still she smiled to soothe my heart.

I read her tales to still the rage

That grief and helplessness impart.

But when she sleeps, the demons wake,

And anguish floods her fragile frame.

Her cries—like knives—they make me break,

And curse the dark, though none to blame.

I’d trade my life to bear her cross,

To wear her pain upon my skin.

I’d take her wounds, her every loss,

If fate would let her rise and win.

Yet I’m no god, no savior, king,

Just flesh and tears and burning soul.

I hold her hand through suffering,

While praying time may make her whole.

I dare not rage at Heaven’s gate,

Though questions drown my trembling mind.

For love is strong and will not wait,

It clings to hope it’s yet to find.

O love, fight on—though frail and torn,

Though nights grow long and light seems far.

The day will come, a golden morn,

Where vows are whispered under stars.

And when that moment comes to be,

No pain shall mar what we have known.

You’ll stand and smile and walk to me,

And I will say, "At last, you’ve come home."

VI. 𝐎 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞!

(A Poetic Translation)

O brawling love! Time spent not in peace,

A moment of joy—yet sorrow won't cease.

A night of closeness—yet tears still remain,

From loving too much, I'm drowning in pain.

To her, the world is a healing balm,

To her, the sky sings a gentle psalm,

To her, the stars all gladly align—

She is the breath of this life of mine.

Yet, her soft heart turns to a stone,

Harsh words she throws like seeds are sown.

She may not wear death's shroud today,

But in love’s war, she walks away.

O love! You haunting, weeping ghost,

Who builds and breaks what we need most.

O perfect face, so cruelly bright,

Blind this aching heart tonight.

O loyal pain! My soul’s disguise,

O love’s sweet fire, now cold as ice.

Your song once wrapped my soul like flame,

But now you burn me with your name.

VII. 𝐎 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 ! 

(Heroic Quatrain Form)

O brawling love! You burn yet leave me cold,

A fleeting joy that sorrow soon betrays.

You shine with grace, yet turn my heart to mold,

You lift me up, then cast me into haze.

To her, the world bends gently like the breeze,

The stars align to echo all her dreams.

She is my dawn, my calm, my soul’s own peace,

Yet love from her now breaks at silent screams.

She hurls sharp words that pierce like winter rain,

And hides her heart behind a frozen wall.

Though death is far, her silence brings me pain,

And in her love, I see my final fall.

O love, you ghost that haunts the bravest mind,

You mask your wounds with beauty's tender smile.

Your sweetest eyes now mock what once was kind,

And lure me still to walk your thorned mile.

O faithful ache! O flame that does not warm,

You dressed in song, now echo into cries.

My soul once danced within your glowing storm,

But now beneath your gaze, it slowly dies.

VIII. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐘𝐨𝐮

 

(Lyric form of poetry)

I walked this world with hollow steps,

A ghost of who I used to be,

Each heartbeat just a fading echo,

Each dream a lost, forgotten plea.

I built my walls from silent stone,

And carved my grief in every crack,

Afraid to love, to hope, to feel—

Afraid of not being loved back.

But then, like dawn through winter’s breath,

You came with truth I couldn’t flee.

You didn’t ask to fix my soul—

You simply sat and wept with me.

You saw the scars I tried to hide,

And touched them not with pity’s hand,

But with the grace of someone who

Could look and still understand.

You loved me not for what I gave,

But for the heart I thought was gone.

You spoke in silence, stayed through storms,

And proved love doesn’t need to dawn.

With you, I learned that love runs deep,

Beyond the words, beyond the fire—

It’s quiet strength, it’s sacrifice,

It’s rising when the world conspires.

So here I stand, my soul laid bare,

No fear, no mask, no more disguise—

For in your love, I found myself,

And saw my worth within your eyes.

IX. 𝐎𝐝𝐞 - 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐌𝐞

O love, thou gentle thief of wretched pain,

Thou entered not with fanfare nor acclaim,

But like a breeze through long-forgotten lane,

You stirred the dust and lit a dying flame.

For eight long years, I wandered in the night,

A soul unmoored, with heart in rusted chain,

I cursed the stars, I shunned the morning light,

And bid farewell to love—to spare the strain.

I locked the gates where tenderness once grew,

I buried dreams in silence, cold and deep,

A ghost in life, with nothing left to do

But walk with sorrow, and pretend to sleep.

But fate, that cunning weaver of surprise,

Did turn its wheel and placed you in my way;

And from your gaze, so kind and warm and wise,

The storm did cease, and night turned into day.

No love I’ve known could rival what you give,

So rich, so real, so endlessly profound;

You taught this broken heart again to live,

To find in you a love that's truly sound.

Not fleeting touch, nor merely sweet delight,

But something rooted, something strong and true—

A hearth of grace, a beacon in the night,

Where souls find peace, and hearts begin anew.

You are my home, my breath, my sacred song,

A haven where I’m seen and understood,

Where even all my flaws can still belong,

And love flows fierce, eternal, pure, and good.

So let the world with all its chaos rage,

Let time and tide and shadow test our days;

For I have found, upon life’s battered page,

A love that lights my soul in endless blaze.

I love thee more than life, more than the skies,

More than the stars that whisper lovers’ name—

And though I once believed that true love dies,

You proved it lives—forever, like a flame.

X. 𝐀 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧

Rondelet

My love for her comes with no sign,

No trumpet call, no warning light—

My love for her comes with no sign.

It struck like stars that just align,

A blaze that burns through quiet night.

It bloomed from cracks in pain and time—

My love for her comes with no sign.

𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐧

Rondel form (a 13- or 14-line poem with two rhymes and a refrain from the opening lines)

My love for her comes with no sign,

It rose like mist in morning's hue,

No reason, rhythm, nor a clue—

Just sudden fire through flesh and spine.

It struck like stars that dare align,

A storm from skies once clear and blue.

My love for her comes with no sign,

It rose like mist in morning's hue.

She bloomed through cracks, a stubborn vine,

A daisy kissed by drops of dew,

Her silence louder than a clue—

Still I am hers, by fate’s design.

My love for her comes with no sign.

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

Terza Rima with ABA BCB CDC, rhyme.

My love for her comes with no sign or sound,

It struck like thunder from a sky so clear,

No path, no plan—just trembling, shaking ground.

It bloomed like roses when no spring is near,

A burst of color through my shadowed chest,

A whisper only aching hearts can hear.

She stood alone, a daisy in the west,

So soft, so still beneath the blazing sun,

Yet in her silence, my soul found its rest.

No logic speaks of how this love begun,

It came, it stayed, it turned my world around—

A quiet war my heart has always won.

𝐓𝐨 𝐌𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝, 𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

Heroic Quatrain (ABAB)

My love for you came soft, without a sound,

No trumpet cried, no omen marked the day.

But when you smiled, the world began to spin,

And all my fears and doubts were washed away.

You bloomed like flowers bursting through the stone,

Where nothing grew, you made the silence sing.

A daisy bright, yet standing all alone,

You brought the sweetness only love can bring.

No warning spoke, no dream foretold your face,

Yet here you are—the song within my soul.

You stilled the storms, restored my broken grace,

And made my scattered pieces feel whole.

No raging fire, no thunder in the sky,

But like a prayer, you touched me, deep and wide.

A holy hush, a calm that made me cry—

I found my home when you stood by my side.

So know this truth: my love is pure and true.

No fame, no gold, no crown could ever part,

This bond I feel each time I think of you—

For you alone now carry all my heart.