Thursday Sonnet: Song of Treasures

O Son of Rome, why do you lie there, dying? –
For once I had three treasures. These I hid:
My dreams, which secret decades saw me piling
Inside a falling star; the thieves who slid
Behind them were too slow to blaze their race.
My knowledge, which I hid in books and words;
Barbarians came, and could not force its safe.
For that you needed wit – they had but swords.
My life I hid inside my heart, to stay
Where heartless thugs would never find the gate.
But then a girl did come from far away,
Who was no brigand, and forced not the wait.
Her voice was kind, and, with my locks complying,
She stole my heart, and now I lie here, dying.