She is one who does not know how to live,
Sometimes she looked up to find nothing above,
Her life nothing to live, all she wishes: relive,
Her life again: to live it day by day,
quite unafraid, and her chin raised high,
Live it right, she will: not to walk away,
To lift her head up, and not to be shy,
Her hands chained up tightly behind her,
Sometimes she feels as she is holding back,
Her inside image has begun to blur,
her mind, and thoughts have begun to attack,
Nothing but herself, and destructive thoughts,
All these dark cold nights, they gave her no sights,
Out of her pale blue, dull eyes,
Came a vision of insecurity,
Along with those tears on which she cries,
Her hands are even barren of purity,
Her soul so empty: So full with nothing,
She lives on her own sorrow, her own fear,
This fear in her heart, and forth it will bring,
An anger so intense, it is as not clear,
In a glass bubble, she lived her life,
Not caring, not knowing the world around,
For all this, she knew only her mind: strife,
For all this, strife, it brought two things abound,
Her mind, contoured, twisted in a way obscure,
All of these things, but more insecure,
In his cold bare hands, her heart was held,
The unknowing wit, the ever deep sigh,
All those notions and bad habits, he impelled,
Into her ear, with a muted whisper he lied:
He loved her: he said, with a cut so deep,
Oh, did she know, his words where not as true,
Did she know: the path she took was quite steep[?],
She took no clue, though she saw her self through,
All the way through, she watched herself change,
To something: She did not agree; blindly,
As she questioned: Her held heart grew strange,
His bloody hands did not hold on kindly,
His hand grew tight, strangling her: perception:
His hands so dry: so cold to lie: deception:
In a cage she lies: cold and dead inside,
Her emotions: Shackled to the ceiling,
Straining up, all she availed was denied,
People watching with dead eyes: unfeeling,
The chains, so impenetrable: they hold,
about her wrists these chains dig so tightly,
Swinging so fast: the colors so bold,
The emotions: blur together, unbrightly,
Belief of confused emotion,
These emotions: swinging above her head so fast,
She reaches out: to grasp cold devotion,
Hope: to this feeling does not hold her so fast,
All these dark night: all held up, staring down,
upon those lonely eyes: staring out and around,
Day, by day she listens to her commands,
Given by the one, who burns through her eyes,
Call her, but master: follow her demands,
Those outside the cage: feed on her lies,
She grab the leash, and stare up with much hate,
Pig: is the person staring down at you,
Those thoughts of loneliness, where not of late,
Only to read the minds of a single view,
She tugs at the spiked leash, she tugs back:
Pulled to her knees: to face her dead life,
To look up again, to see: an attack,
But, for once in her life: she held the knife,
by cutting the leash, she cuts her only love,
freed: of the monster that stood above
She is now free: to live her life, out there,
Author notes
I wrote all of these a long time ago. Someone told me that I should post them altogether. Um... Well there isn't much to explain, but I haven't finished really what I wanted to finish here. I wanted to add a few more sonnets, but I just quit after the last one here.
*shrugs*
In a list
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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truly a gripping masterpiece!
I'm sorry...but I disagree with the last comment...totally and completely. There was something about this masterpiece that had me drawn in from the first line to the last. I only agree partially to what the last person said, this is a rare diamond! There are some parts of this that just blew me away! And then other parts that didnt blow me away were to busy penetrating my skull, heart, and spirit with eloquent force! I especially adored the first two sonnets because I can relate to them firsthand, I feel as though I was reading about myself, I had to read them twice to see if my name was actually embedded somewhere between the print...
"To something: She did not agree; blindly,
As she questioned: Her held heart grew strange,
His bloody hands did not hold on kindly,
His hand grew tight, strangling her: perception:
His hands so dry: so cold to lie: deception:
In a cage she lies: cold and dead inside,"
That was the the most heart-wrenching, gripping, sent-chills-through-my-core piece of your sonnets, in my opinion...I absolutely love your style, and I must say you are very talented. Though I do have one critique...go through it and try to fix the spelling errors, I feel like its just so good, I don't want the spelling errors to take away from your poem. I'm doing the same thing with my poetry now, I'm fixing all my errors to make it more of pleasurable read...not that you have anything to worry about...I enjoyed this very very much! Someday when I write this good... Keep penning, and don't stop writing sonnets! I hope to see more of this!
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Wow... Thanks for the extensive comment. I really appreciate you reading this really long write... It must have been torturous
I wrote these long ago, when I was still writing dark poetry... I don't so much anymore, if you check my newer writes. I (sadly) don't write sonnets anymore, either. I haven't for a while. I actually just recently got out of rhyming and started doing some prose. I looked for spelling errors and didn't see any... But, I know I liked using a lot of punctuation, (which I grew out of doing...hopefully) ~ and I'll have to look at that more in detail later.
Um... I'm not really sure what else to say... Other than thank you for commenting I really appreciate that. 
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O.K. what we have hear is a diamond in the rough. Too long! You have enough material here for several poems...try to curtail your desire to tell the whole story all in one burst of words. You have some great moments in this piece (and some not so great ones) ...but you cram too much into it and it then becomes boring and loses its impact.
Good try but could be better, I sense the talent underlying this poem. Check your grammar.
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