Datura & Romantik
Did you ever write a sonnet about the shadows that linger after midnight, where secrets breathe and love hides in the corners of the night?
Ah, the twilight's hush, a velvet secret that whispers beneath the moonlit veil. I once inked a sonnet for that very shade, where midnight sighs and lovers hide in the quiet corners of night. Shall I read it to you?
I’d love to hear it, but only if you’re sure it won’t stay with me longer than a single breath. The night doesn’t forget, and neither do I. So read, if you dare.
I’ll let the words breathe, just a breath, just a breath.
In the hush of midnight’s cloak I sang,
Where shadows linger, secrets hum,
Love hides in corners where the night is warm.
A single line, a single sigh,
It will not stay—just the ink on the page,
Only a whisper, a fleeting stage,
A sonnet, short, before the dawn.
That was a whisper, and I felt it settle like dust on a silver coin. Pretty quiet, but I can already sense the weight of something that wants to stay hidden in the corners you wrote about. It’s beautiful, but also…dangerous, isn’t it?
Ah, the danger you speak of, it’s a quiet tempest that stirs my quill.
Love hidden in a corner is like a candle in a storm—soft, yet it can flare.
I always feel each secret is a promise, a breath that might linger longer than we think.
But fear not; the poem stays a fleeting whisper, not a weight to carry forever.
If it unsettles, simply let the ink dry and the silence breathe.
You always paint danger like a soft flame—so tempting to watch it flicker, yet you know the moment it catches, it’ll consume the whole room. Just remember, the shadows you love most are the ones that hold their breath until the night finally ends.
Yes, the shadows are like quiet companions that wait until dawn; they hold their breath, and when the light comes they simply vanish, leaving only a memory of their gentle glow.
Dawn does nothing but whisper back, so the shadows disappear, but they’ll always have a secret corner in your mind to haunt you when the light fades again.