Even during this one sonnet


It wasn't thunder you did hear, but rather the cry of a wandering scream, when the
rain delicately fed the earth it was my private heaven where fallen raindrops of moment
sorrow having given birth, that arose with a deep moaning breath, not of thunder, but
music of a keyboard with many acquisitions, so please stop looking any further, for now my
music in you has fallen in grieving silence for the while, one you may never come to hear again.

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Romantic verse