Through fields of scattered diamonds loosely tossed,
With melancholy gaze and mournful light,
She searches far and wide for love long lost.
For what does her celestial body yearn?
What hunger monthly starves her to the bone?
What bids her, while a skeleton, to turn
Once more across the sky, cold and alone?
No human heart has known such solitude!
For every night she hides with stoic grace
Her pain, and seems, in earthly eyes, subdued;
Both lovers and lamenters know her face.
She hears each night the cries that mortals make
But not a tear she sheds for her own sake.
P.S. I've never written a sonnet before, so, yeah.
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