The Murder of Sonnet 61

Every night, your loveliness keeps my eyes from closing.
I am so tired, yet thoughts of you prevent my sleep.
Why do you do this? Stealing away the rest that is mine.
I sometimes see you. No, a shadow, taking your form.

But is it you, floating towards me across that great distance?
Searching me to see if I am faithful to you, aren't you?
Watching me silently, making sure I am not distracted.
So jealous are you, fearing I have some other diversion.

But no! You, in all your greatness, would never. 
It is mine one conscience that keeps me from sleeping.
My love for you keeps my eyes from closing against the dark.
Watching for you, waiting. Never losing hope that you will come.

For you I wait, but morning wakes you far away from me.
And being far, I despise those near to you.


This was my take on a more modern version of Shakespeare's Sonnet 61 even though I didn't use any rhymes. It was written, (like all great things are) to impress a girl. And it totally worked.
Here is a copy of the original for comparison.


~~~~~
Sonnet 61
Is it thy will thy image should keep open
My heavy eyelids to the weary night?
Dost thou desire my slumbers should be broken,
While shadows like to thee do mock my sight?

Is it thy spirit that thou send'st from thee
So far from home into my deeds to pry,
To find out shames and idle hours in me,
The scope and tenor of thy jealousy?

O, no! thy love, though much, is not so great:
It is my love that keeps mine eye awake;
Mine own true love that doth my rest defeat,
To play the watchman ever for thy sake:

For thee watch I whilst thou dost wake elsewhere,
From me far off, with others all too near.
~~~~~