Sonnet Lvi

Enjoy the sun light,
Wish not the night its time;
The sun its place so bright,
And the universe once more refined.
The present so little to feel.
Through sense perceptions the image's face;
Only imagination to the future still.
Mere memory the past grace.
To time the present is small,
Suffering only a moment occupies.
Memory telling its duration to recall.
And the future its limit supplies.
Pain long lasting, resignation befalls.
In the end ceases with the call.

by Billy Aliff

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