More Shakespeare's Sonnets
By Fox-Trot-9

Sonnet 87: The Poet
(Admonishments 14)

So swear that love on me, or else swear off
(At least) that most unjust and fickle lie
Thy callous words could form with such a scoff;
If thou so swear'st, more happy thou and I!
For if perchance thou look'st upon this wrack
That is my face and view'st these teary eyes
With spite, then single out these traits I lack
Before this pulsing heart within me dies!
Then—then—by God, remove such hateful glares
From weary me and quit this foolish game;
Thou know'st I can't believe such hateful airs
Are thine to keep as thine unwholesome aim:
      So tell the truth and shame the blasted devil
      That tells thee to commit so vile an evil!

(To be continued...)

A/N: I think, for those who have fanned me, are getting a little freaked out right now... ( O_O )