Notes: In case you were wondering, I wrote this sonnet about a girl who I loved with all my soul—and who betrayed me completely in the end. For what it counts, I'll say it here: I still miss her.

Here is my testament, O midnight flower;

The one I, ever dutiful, adore;

She who has left me in my darkest hour;

One feigning heartlessness; a grieving whore:

I know you love me—I can see it still.

Dark bloom whose sad face fears the light of day,

You sold your belle blue self without your will:

My hand outstretched, wind blew you in its way.

I beg of you, forget-me-not, my rose

Inside the darkened void you claim is right.

Instead cast off thy dark and tawdry clothes

To favor petals of the purest white.

I pine to see at last your blossom true!

For to me, life is death when not with you.

Please review. I love hearing from readers.