The Sonnets

He slinks, a shadow in the darkened lanes,
And watches through his golden devil eyes,
The life performed behind smudged windowpanes,
A languid stranger listening to sighs.
He stretches out on concrete sidewalks warm
From slanting rays of yellow morning sun.
He smiles with smug conceit, so true to form,
As if the world himself alone had won.
He strolls with subtle glide from home to home,
And in the hedge, he idly stalks his meal.
Just always taking life as it may come,
To live and die is all his soul will feel.
He has a restless spirit ever been.
Will death arriving soon his wand'ring end?

The sun has fallen softly from the skies,
Thus taking with him warmth from brilliant day,
And rending sunlight from your now cold eyes.
The darkness now has come in haste to stay.
The night is here; the time to sleep has come.
Like diamond jewels in a chest you lie,
Encased within the velvet walls of home.
Though you are dead you'll never really die.
Your bones entombed will stay forever stilled,
And nevermore your silent eyes to see
So eager then to end your life, death killed.
Though lying dead your life is still to be.
Fear not this soundless sleep so void of light.
As daylight went so shall the dark of night.