Sonnet I

If music were an instrum't for mortals
To delve within in search for true nature,
Then expression would serve too as portals,
As we need not labor
To grasp those fates arranging us to meet,
For tongues do separate us from others.
But art unites us to avoid deceit-
For then, can we not lie as to anoth'r.
Be it eros that makes men blind as can be,
That they view light from behind a dark veil;
For love, liars of us all can decree,
Of which can only be by music nulled.
And only do muses reveal the truth...
Without whom, might we never learn of Ruth.

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