// The question by itself seems so surreal. I found friendship to be a woeful might - to talk together of our wants and fears, and chatter with each other through the night. To cry together all the painful tears, and reminisce of lovers in our years. The bond we made became our spirit shields, and hours spent online became our spears. You tempt my soul with what I long to feel. To talk of parents lost who gave us life, of siblings gone despite our sacred fears. You’re my chosen sister of whom I write, who gives me butterflies when you come near. Are we platonic? It seems so unclear. Maybe I weaken with romantic zeal, and my spirit struggles when you come near. You tempt my soul with what I long to feel. Whatever happens in our darkened night if our friendship turns even more unclear our language grows to more than butterflies the friendship vibrates, rage-filled, nuclear We’ll cry together all the painful tears and slay the monsters with our hardened steel placed with friendship upon our heart-shaped speers You tempt my soul with what I long to feel. Will you support me if a mutineer? The question by itself seems so surreal - hold my hand through another bitter year? You tempt my soul with what I long to feel. 28 lines three stanzas of eight lines followed by a quatrain (or four-line stanza) called an envoy (or envoi) rhyme scheme: ababbcbC/ababbcbC/ababbcbC/bcbC final line of each stanza is a refrain each line is usually comprised of eight or 10 syllables (flexible, but consistent within the poem)
// The question by itself seems so surreal.
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