Tried my hand at Elizabethan style poetry.. Thoughts?
PRITHEE! Thou cast dreary grey over thine own head.
Tho yee taketh kind words; forged as weaponry.
Cut’th down thine own heart. Shall yet be for a cold, weary ‘morrow.
Slain hath been mine own loveth woes. Melancholy hath no touch; ‘tis I know thy why.
Gallant hath been mine own heart. T’was torn to sundering bits. Alas, thou fell in shadow.
Alas, mine own heart be still. Thou hast killed mine fine love for a gentlewoman.
About the Creator
Dylan S
I am an inspiring writer. I have always enjoyed writing with pen and paper. Jotting down my thoughts and my own constructs of reality and make-believe, and bringing them into the world. I enjoy writing and would love to get paid doing it.
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