z

Young Writers Society


404: Not Found

Oops! This link might be corrupted.
You should check for any Miss Spellings.
While you ponder this, enjoy a poem:


Sonnet 33 (1609)
by William Shakespeare

Full many a glorious morning have I seen
Flatter the mountain tops with sovereign eye,
Kissing with golden face the meadows green,
Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy;
Anon permit the basest clouds to ride
With ugly rack on his celestial face,
And from the forlorn world his visage hide,
Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace:
Even so my sun one early morn did shine,
With all triumphant splendour on my brow;
But out, alack, he was but one hour mine,
The region cloud hath mask'd him from me now.
Yet him for this my love no whit disdaineth;
Suns of the world may stain when heaven's sun staineth.


When your heart gets pierced with arrows, don't rip them out and pierce those around you in retribution for your hurt. You'll only unnecessarily wound others and bleed to death yourself.
— LadyMysterio