A Sonnet for Sidurgu
Shall I compare thee to a Moogle’s pom
Thine skin wax fair in pale moon’s light below
Yet though steel visage radiates so calm
Embarrassment, bright red cheeks’ afterglow
Sharp piercing horns and teeth like razor blades
Gruff insults, fierce glares, fury is thy norm
But deep within a soul cold doth pervade
A kindness kindled deep grows soft and warm
Beneath thy harsh tongue and indignant hate
For past mistreatment that tore thee apart
A loyal Dark Knight’s oath upheld of late
Shows compassion in Obsidian Heart
Deny it all thou wish, sweet Sidurgu
“Tsundere” is what we call guys like you