A Sonnet for a Sunday – Sting (Fragile)

If blood will flow when
flesh and steel are one,
drying in the colour of the evening sun –
tomorrow’s rain will
wash the stains away,
but something in our minds will always stay —
Perhaps this final act was meant
to clinch a lifetime’s argument,
that nothing comes from violence
and nothing ever could –
for all those born beneath an angry star
lest we forget how fragile we are —
On and on the rain will fall like tears from a star,
On and on the rain will say how fragile we are.

Shakespeare’s Sonnet #25

Let those who are in favour with their stars 
Of public honour and proud titles boast, 
Whilst I, whom fortune of such triumph bars, 
Unlook’d for joy in that I honour most. 
Great princes’ favourites their fair leaves spread 
But as the marigold at the sun’s eye, 
And in themselves their pride lies buried,
For at a frown they in their glory die. 
The painful warrior famoused for fight, 
After a thousand victories once foil’d, 
Is from the book of honour razed quite, 
And all the rest forgot for which he toil’d:
   Then happy I, that love and am beloved 
   Where I may not remove nor be removed.