𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐒

 

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐓 -  𝐈

Love hath no cause that fate may yet unmake,

Nor bends it low to time’s relentless tide;
No fleeting woe its constancy can shake,
For true it stands, though sorrow doth betide.
Its course is firm, though tempests call it vain,
Like steadfast stars that light the darkened skies;
No wealth nor loss may shape its pure domain,
Nor passing years may bid its glow demise.
Though time may steal the bloom from fleeting days,
And lead two hearts upon diverging streams,
Yet love remains, unturned by time’s cruel ways,
For faith outlives the frailty of dreams.
Though all else fades and hearts may drift apart,
Love speaks no end, but lingers in the heart.

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐓 - 𝐈𝐈

As once we met when love was fresh and new,
Thy face was fair, untouched by sorrow’s shade;
Like autumn’s gold or April’s morning dew,
No passing time could see thy beauty fade.
Yet time moves on, and seasons shift away,
Like April’s bloom that wilts in winter’s breath;
The fleeting hours no hand nor heart can stay,
As love still shines, though bound by time and death.
Alas! How bright yet fragile is thy grace,
Like fleeting dawn that melts in golden streams;
Though past is lost, no force can love erase,
For in my heart, it lingers still in dreams.
If beauty fades, then love shall still remain,
And through its strength, outlive both time and pain.

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐓 - 𝐈𝐈𝐈

The purest hearts are cast to grief and woe,
For virtue finds no place in hearts unkind;
Though time may strike and lay their bright souls low,
Their joy still blooms, though sorrow makes them blind.
But thou, who once did love with steadfast grace,
Hast turned away and dimmed thy noble light;
Thy tender soul, now lost in dark embrace,
Forsakes the path where once it shone so bright.
Yet thou, the purest light this world has known,
Once bore the weight of love with courage true;
But now, deceived, thy kindness stands alone,
Betrayed by those who knew not what they slew.
If love must fade, then let the heavens cry,
Or else with thee in silent dust it lie.

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐓 -  𝐈𝐕

The mountain stands, yet fades before thy gaze,
Like blossoms lost when autumn winds run wild;
Like withered trees that yield to time’s decays,
Or fleeting songs where tempests grow defiled.
So shall the golden sun forsake the sky,
As twilight’s shroud consumes the waning light;
And darkest night shall steal where day did lie,
Till death unveils its veil of endless night.
Like fading embers lost in silent air,
Thy flowers fall, too swift for man to see;
Yet though death claims, and steals what once was fair,
Love’s boundless power breaks its tyranny.
For love, unshaken, shall defy its doom,
And through its strength, outlive both death and gloom.

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐓 - 𝐕

Like rolling waves that race to kiss the shore,
So pass our days toward fate’s unyielding end;
Each moment lost, yet time creates once more,
As all must blend where past and future bend.
Our birth, a step into life’s fleeting tide,
Where youth’s bright bloom must face time’s harsh embrace;
Yet time’s cold hand no mercy will provide,
It steals our joys and mars the fairest face.
It strikes with age where beauty once had shone,
And bends the strong beneath its weight of years;
No eye so bright but time will dim its tone,
Yet verse may guard what life to darkness steers.
Though all things fade beneath time’s cruel decree,
Thy worth shall shine through all eternity.

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐓 - 𝐕𝐈

Shall fate decide what sorrow yet may bring,
Or fashion grief from that which none can see?
Though trials rise on dark and endless wing,
No force can tear my steadfast love from me.
Though death may call, its whispers cold and near,
And bid the weary yield to endless rest,
Yet time and pain, though cruel, bring no fear,
For love remains—unyielding, ever blessed.
Though fortune fades and joys are stripped away,
My love shines bright, though death should cast its shade;
Let mortals weep, let empires fall to clay,
Yet love stands firm, untouched, unbound, unswayed.
And when the world forgets both time and name,
Thy soul in mine shall ever burn the same.

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐓 - 𝐕𝐈𝐈

Shall I then grasp the storm-cloud in my hand?
Yet thou, more firm, endurest wind and tide;
The flowers of spring by tempests torn and spanned,
Still bloom, though brief, with none to stand beside.
The moon may fade, yet never bow to night,
Nor shall the raging sun in sorrow fall;
The earth, though rich with treasures pure and bright,
Still bends beneath the storm’s relentless call.
Yet all thy grace no storm can tear away,
No fleeting time shall steal thy soul’s embrace;
Though death itself may seek to claim its prey,
Thou standest firm, untouched by fate’s disgrace.
While all the world must bow to fleeting doom,
Thy light shall never fade into the gloom.

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐓 - 𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈

Without you, life is but a hollow shell,
The sun may shine, but warmth it does not bring.
In silent days, where once my joy would swell,
Now sorrow weeps and shadows softly cling.
You are the sun, and I, the circling earth,
Drawn to your light, my purpose and my grace.
Without your love, I question all my worth,
A stranger in the mirror’s empty face.
You are the rain, and I, the waiting sky,
Longing to pour, but void of soul or sound.
I breathe your name with every shattered sigh,
Yet in your absence, grief is all I’ve found.
Forgive the wounds I caused, the pain, the past—
Come back, my love, and heal my heart at last.

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐓 - 𝐈𝐗

I broke my word, though love I did profess,
Not out of guile, but careless, wounded soul.
Long years I walked alone in emptiness,
Till you appeared and made my spirit whole.
So perfect you—with strength, with fire, with grace,
While I, a broken man with hollow eyes,
Found heaven's mercy shining in your face,
A truth I’d lost beneath forgotten skies.
Yet lacking craft, I faltered in your need,
My heart was true, though hands did cause you pain.
For every tear, my soul begins to bleed,
Yet still, my love for you will not abstain.
If I have failed, then let my sorrow show:
Without your love, I wither, cold and slow.

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐓 - 𝐗

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,60
Her brow aglow as myths that old song 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 plead,
From out her night, the golden morning break,       
And light blooms forth from every wound she bled.  

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐓 - 𝐗𝐈

Love hath no cause that fate may yet unmake,
Nor bends it low to time’s relentless tide;
No fleeting woe its constancy can shake,
For true it stands, though sorrow doth betide.
Its course is firm, though tempests call it vain,
Like steadfast stars that light the darkened skies;
No wealth nor loss may shape its pure domain,
Nor passing years may bid its glow demise.
Though time may steal the bloom from fleeting days,
And lead two hearts upon diverging streams,
Yet love remains, unturned by time’s cruel ways,
For faith outlives the frailty of dreams.
Though all else fades and hearts may drift apart,
Love speaks no end, but lingers in the heart.

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐓 - 𝐗𝐈𝐈

 

As once we met when love was fresh and new,
Thy face was fair, untouched by sorrow’s shade;
Like autumn’s gold or April’s morning dew,
No passing time could see thy beauty fade.
Yet time moves on, and seasons shift away,
Like April’s bloom that wilts in winter’s breath;
The fleeting hours no hand nor heart can stay,
As love still shines, though bound by time and death.
Alas! How bright yet fragile is thy grace,
Like fleeting dawn that melts in golden streams;
Though past is lost, no force can love erase,
For in my heart, it lingers still in dreams.
If beauty fades, then love shall still remain,
And through its strength, outlive both time and pain.

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐓 - 𝐗𝐈𝐈𝐈

The purest hearts are cast to grief and woe,
For virtue finds no place in hearts unkind;
Though time may strike and lay their bright souls low,
Their joy still blooms, though sorrow makes them blind.
But thou, who once did love with steadfast grace,
Hast turned away and dimmed thy noble light;
Thy tender soul, now lost in dark embrace,
Forsakes the path where once it shone so bright.
Yet thou, the purest light this world has known,
Once bore the weight of love with courage true;
But now, deceived, thy kindness stands alone,
Betrayed by those who knew not what they slew.
If love must fade, then let the heavens cry,
Or else with thee in silent dust it lie.

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐓 - 𝐗𝐈𝐕

The mountain stands, yet fades before thy gaze,
Like blossoms lost when autumn winds run wild;
Like withered trees that yield to time’s decays,
Or fleeting songs where tempests grow defiled.
So shall the golden sun forsake the sky,
As twilight’s shroud consumes the waning light;
And darkest night shall steal where day did lie,
Till death unveils its veil of endless night.
Like fading embers lost in silent air,
Thy flowers fall, too swift for man to see;
Yet though death claims, and steals what once was fair,
Love’s boundless power breaks its tyranny.
For love, unshaken, shall defy its doom,
And through its strength, outlive both death and gloom.

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐓 - 𝐗𝐕𝐈

Like rolling waves that race to kiss the shore,
So pass our days toward fate’s unyielding end;
Each moment lost, yet time creates once more,
As all must blend where past and future bend.
Our birth, a step into life’s fleeting tide,
Where youth’s bright bloom must face time’s harsh embrace;
Yet time’s cold hand no mercy will provide,
It steals our joys and mars the fairest face.
It strikes with age where beauty once had shone,
And bends the strong beneath its weight of years;
No eye so bright but time will dim its tone,
Yet verse may guard what life to darkness steers.
Though all things fade beneath time’s cruel decree,
Thy worth shall shine through all eternity.

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐓 - 𝐗𝐕𝐈𝐈

Shall fate decide what sorrow yet may bring,
Or fashion grief from that which none can see?
Though trials rise on dark and endless wing,
No force can tear my steadfast love from me.
Though death may call, its whispers cold and near,
And bid the weary yield to endless rest,
Yet time and pain, though cruel, bring no fear,
For love remains—unyielding, ever blessed.
Though fortune fades and joys are stripped away,
My love shines bright, though death should cast its shade;
Let mortals weep, let empires fall to clay,
Yet love stands firm, untouched, unbound, unswayed.
And when the world forgets both time and name,
Thy soul in mine shall ever burn the same.

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐓 - 𝐗𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈

Shall I then grasp the storm-cloud in my hand?
Yet thou, more firm, endurest wind and tide;
The flowers of spring by tempests torn and spanned,
Still bloom, though brief, with none to stand beside.
The moon may fade, yet never bow to night,
Nor shall the raging sun in sorrow fall;
The earth, though rich with treasures pure and bright,
Still bends beneath the storm’s relentless call.
Yet all thy grace no storm can tear away,
No fleeting time shall steal thy soul’s embrace;
Though death itself may seek to claim its prey,
Thou standest firm, untouched by fate’s disgrace.
While all the world must bow to fleeting doom,
Thy light shall never fade into the gloom.

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐓 - 𝐗𝐈𝐗

(Miltonic Sonnet ABBAABBA CDECDE)

Where are you now, whose voice once calmed my storm,
Whose presence turned the darkest hours to light?
With you, the cruelest day would feel so right,
And pain, in shared embrace, would lose its form.
We spoke of all—our wounds, our hearts still warm
With hope, despite the endless, mounting night.
But now you're gone, and all I've known takes flight,
This hollow life no longer holds its norm.
My soul, my breath, my blood all ache for you—
You came like dew, like smoke, like lightning's gleam,
Then vanished, leaving echoes in your place.
I search the stars, the dawn, the evening blue,
To find some trace of you within the dream,
But only sorrow fills your sacred space.

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐓 - 𝐗𝐈𝐗 

(Spenserian Sonnet)

Where are you now, whose voice once lit my skies? (A)
Not one day passes without whispered plea. (B)
With you, the hours soared like swallows’ cries, (A)
Then vanished deep within eternity. (B)
We bared our wounds, our truths no mask could hide, (C)
In pain and love, we carved our sacred space. (B)
But now I walk alone where dreams have died, (C)
Each step a void, each breath your ghost’s embrace. (D)
My soul, my veins, my heart, all cry for you, (C)
Your absence breaks the stars and dims my flame. (D)
You came like dawn, then vanished like the dew, (E)
A fleeting spark no time could ever tame. (E)

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐓 - 𝐗𝐗

How came an angel, robed in light and grace,
To see in me what I could never see?
A heart unworthy, in so lowly place,
Yet blessed by love as deep as any sea.
Thy gaze, a balm that heals my doubting soul,
Thy voice, a hymn that stirs the stars above.
In thee, my world is made complete and whole—
A fairy queen, yet filled with mortal love.
Were I to choose 'twixt treasures vast and thee,
I'd cast aside all gold and jeweled throne.
For richer far am I, with love so free,
Than kings who rule, but cold and all alone.
So let them marvel, let the world not see—
How heaven stooped, and gave its heart to me.

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐓 -  𝐗𝐗𝐈

Let none condemn me when I speak her name,
An angel clad in mortal form is she.
Say not I boast, nor call my praise a shame—
Her worth exceeds what eyes on earth can see.
I've walked through life and met both young and old,
The rich in charm, the fair of every kind.
Yet none possessed a heart so pure, so bold,
So vast in soul, so noble in her mind.
She’s gentler than the dove in twilight skies,
And redder than the burning ember's glow.
More wise than sages, with discerning eyes,
More strong in love than heroes long ago.
Her beauty lives where truth and wonder meet—
To know her grace, one must her gaze complete.

 

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐓 - 𝐗𝐗𝐈𝐈

He gave his all, with heart both pure and wide,
Each breath he spent, he offered in her name.
No selfish wish did in his soul abide,
But quiet deeds that bore love’s sacred flame.
Yet comes a day when questions pierce the core—
"Did you love true? Did effort lie in vain?"
And though he weeps behind a bolted door,
He yields, not out of hate, but out of pain.
For love, when weighed and doubted, starts to die;
Not from neglect, but from a scornful gaze.
What once soared freely now must learn to lie,
Chained not by choice, but by love’s final phase.
So let him go—not loveless, but unseen,
His heart still full, though broken in between.

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐓 -  𝐗𝐗𝐈𝐈𝐈

Thou art my love from some far distant land,
A dream so rare it scarcely touches life;
Yet still, with all my soul, Ti Amo stand—
My vow remains through joy, through storm and strife.
Thou art the fragrance of the orchid bloom,
The scent of cactus flowers in the air,
The incense rising in a twilight gloom,
A forest wet with rain and rich with care.
At dusk I dream, and thoughts of thee return,
Through haze of masks and memories long past;
A memento where forbidden passions burn,
A love too deep, too sacred, still to last.
Yet in thy smile, in song, I see the bliss—
The truest joy sealed in a single kiss.

 

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐓 -  𝐗𝐗𝐈𝐕

 

A goddess bright, desired by every gaze,
Yet fate’s kind hand did place you next to me.
In love we burned, consumed in passion’s blaze,
Two hearts as one, unchained, wild, and free.

From dawn to dusk, our whispers filled the air,
No thought withheld, no dream too far to share.
Yet cruel fate struck—our joy turned to despair,
As sickness wove its shadows in your stare.

I stood with you through nights of endless pain,
A voice, a rock, though distant still so near.
But illness stole your light and left you chained,
Your love turned sharp with anger, doubt, and fear.

Though silence now stands tall between us two,
My heart still burns with love, unshaken, true.

 

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐓 -  𝐗𝐗𝐕

 

O Death, come swiftly, end this cruel despair,
Relieve my soul from torment’s endless chain.

Betrayal, loss, and burdens hard to bear,

Have left me drowning in unyielding pain.

 

The world is cold, its voices sharp with scorn,

No guiding hand, no solace in the night.

Each trust once held is broken, bruised, and torn,

And hope has faded, lost to endless plight.

 

Yet still, thou linger’st, silent in the shade,

While I, alone, must suffer sorrow’s breath.

Must I endure till all my strength will fade?

Or wilt thou grant me peace in endless death?

 

But what if darkness holds no love, no rest?

What if the dawn yet shines upon my chest?

 

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐓 -  𝐗𝐗𝐕𝐈

 

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.   

 

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐓 -  𝐗𝐗𝐕𝐈𝐈

That of a barren tree in desert wide,
So stands my soul, alone, withered and dry.
Like winter's branch that shivers, stripped of pride,
My days drift on beneath a hollow sky.

I
A boat without a helm in stormy seas,
That's how I roam, untethered, lost, and blind.
Each wave a whisper begging for your breeze,
Each current craving peace I cannot find.

As roses thirst for rain to bloom anew,
My heart cries out for love that only you
Can give—like poets needing pain to write,
Or changing seasons reaching for their cue.

So let me say, in verses soft and true,
Without your light, my world is stripped of hue.  

 

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐓 -  𝐗𝐗𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈

 

When first we met, the world stood still in awe,
For you, so bright, so far above my reach.
Yet fate conspired to bend its sacred law,
And placed your heart within my trembling speech.

Each whispered vow, each night that turned to day,
We danced in love, entwined in joy's embrace.
Then sickness came to steal the light away,
And pain did carve its sorrow on your face.

Through months of woe, I stayed though miles apart,
A voice, a hand, though distant, always near.
Yet now your storm rains wrath upon my heart,
Your love once warm is clouded, cold, severe.

But still, my soul in longing calls your name,
For love endures through anger, grief, and flame.

 

 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐓 - 𝐗𝐗𝐈𝐗

 

Though countless flaws mine eyes in thee do see,
Yet love they not, nor do they seek thy face;
My heart, though blind, still binds itself to thee,
And deems thy faults a mark of perfect grace.

Thy voice delights me not, nor do I crave
The touch, the scent, the taste of love’s embrace;
No worldly sense my soul to thee enslave,
Yet passion holds me fast in cruel chase.

And though my reason warns me of my plight,
Still I, a willing thrall, must wear thy chain;
Like shackled serf who yields to lordly might,
I serve thee still, though servitude is pain.

But here’s my gain amid my sorrowed lot—

She who makes me sin, my penance wrought.