Okay, so by now, you all know that I kinda like challenging myself to write poems following different sets of rules. I really thought I met my match with this one, though. There is a type of poem, invented by fucking Satan himself called a ghazal (even the name sounds evil). The sole purpose of this type of poem is to make grown men sob hysterically and women run screaming into the night.

Seriously. It fucking sucks. A lot.

Here are the rules. A ghazal is made up of an odd-numbered chain of couplets, where each couplet is an independent poem. It has a refrain of 1 to 3 words that repeat and an inline rhyme that precedes each refrain. Lines 1 and 2, and then every second line, has this refrain and inline rhyme. The rhyming scheme is AA bA cA dA eA, etc.

Lying restrained, waiting, in pleading silence
Alone and soaring in soft, ceding silence

Gentle, unseen hands caress battered flesh
Soft moans echo in the bleeding silence

Loving hands guiding tenderly down
Compelled to follow the leading silence

Descending gently from the clouds
Following faithfully, heeding silence

Landing softly in a kind embrace
Safe and warm now, needing silence