Title: Swan Song
Word Count: 117 (14 lines)
A/N: Well, I guess what I did with the prompt here was really anti-fade. But it's an idea I've had for a long time and was going to use in a short story I started back in July, but I can't get it right. So last night it turned into a sonnet. Enjoy.
Of regal head and snow-white wing, a swan
In his life does possess much beauty pure;
Elegance nobler than curved streaks of dawn
Is found in his slender, bowed neck, and more
Passion lies behind his black masked gaze
Than between lovers under moonlight's spell--
Yet the most beautiful part of his days
Is the dying song he sings, his farewell.
We are not now. We are not ready yet.
I will not love and lose, be, then not be.
But I promise you, when my sun has set,
When I'm old, grey, with one breath left in me,
I'll seek you out; wait for me, everlong--
Our love, in death, will be our own swan song.