All things conspire to stand between;
Love is but a battlefield.
None could have thus foreseen;
What every glance had to reveal.
When sun and storm refuse to yield;
They ask me if my love was real.
I hold up faith like its a shield;
Time alone shall make them kneel.
All things conspire – to keep us apart
Your eyes thus bade me to linger.
Their melody throbbing inside the heart;
Watch when fate – points up a finger.
Love is like an ocean wild
Despair itself is worn and mild.
Photo Credits: imgarcade.com
Form: Shakespearean Sonnet
Posted on Sunday Mini-Challenge @ Real Toads