The following was my attempt at a sonnet. It's supposed to be a Vincent journal entry after Catherine's death...
I used to take great pleasure in the words
That I wrote here. But, as the candlelight
Betrays my solitary form and girds
These tunnel walls against the coming night,
I find no solace in the memories.
These bittersweet reminders of the dream
We shared are feeble, pallid forgeries
Which force the air out of me in a scream,
"Oh, Catherine!" I haven't strength to bear
This loss! I'd rend this book in two, dispose
Of every word that's written, just to hear
Your footsteps, see your face, and pull you close.
I must believe with each and every breath,
The love we shared will triumph over death.