Whispers in the Night: A Sonnet to 'Rumors'

Oh, Fleetwood Mac, dost thou thy truths bewail?

The rumors spread, like winds upon the seas.

In endless dance, amidst guitars they sail,

But heart doth break with every whispered breeze.

Of longing songs and love that's lost untold,

The notes do wound, with every sorrowed tune.

A silver spring or hearts that once were gold,

Each melody wrapped 'neath the pale night moon?

Yet warmth of Fleetwood’s soul survives the rift,

In 'Go Your Own Way' bravery procured,

From sullen depths, they rise with gentle lift,

Love’s hardships through great talents are manured.

Hear fans' embrace, their sufferings did invest,

For in their bittersweet lies songs' bequest.