SHAKESPEAREAN SONNET CONTEST: Closed

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Imagine

Imagine that the sun will cease to shine,
And all the world a dry and dreary place,
Bereft of flowers and of vintage wine,
Despairing evermore to see your face.
To wander all my days in misery,
Beset by careless fate throughout the years.
To ponder every wound is history,
Yet how to banish all my rising fears?
Imagine that the moon will fail to rise,
And shooting stars that crash amid their course;
Comets turned to ash, painting morbid skies,
Careening in the heavens from remorse.
Imagine if the planets start to fall,