Hell Yes, I Write Sonnets Sometimes

This one is more correctly a Shakespearean Nonce Sonnet, as the last lines are a different meter that I chose.

The Settled Messenger

The settled messenger awoke one night,

And made her bed, the ringing in her ears,

As much a bell-toll as a signal light,

(Inventions of the intervening years).

The settled messenger awoke to find,

The speech already formed within her heart,

Lightning spiced the ether of each line,

And arrows pierced her in her inmost parts.

The settled messenger began to sing,

Her newfound feet now planted with her stave,

And in so doing ring encircled ring,

Reverberations cresting wave on wave.

But still the chosen moment was too massive for her magic,

And her song was blown to semafores and dashes in the static.