An Ignorant Lover

In a pre-television age when people where stuck in the house together by adverse weather they would tell stories and poems to each other. In that tradition I have composed this poem. I call it 'An Ignorant Lover':


The Past is a tale which is cold,
Where wrong triumphed over right,
But the future has yet to be told:
A land where everything is still bright.
And even though I am unloved,
And I feel the creeping arm of despair,
Still, let me minister my love,
To that creature with looks so fair.
Even when at the end of days,
In what will be my darkest hour,
I shall be warmed by tender rays,
For unreturned love shall not turn sour.
The Mind is weighed down by the Heart’s chains,
For in life it is the heart which reigns.


I would be interested in anyone's thoughts on the sonnet.