Day 14 - A Sonnet

I only just realised that last night's attempt at a sonnet had 10 lines instead of 14. So here's another one.

On a Monday in November

So should I rise before the Sun doth so?
Go out without my comfort and my light?
No, it is absurd! I shall not go
And leave thee here, wrenched cruelly from my sight.
Once more I in dismal cold and rain
And unbroken darkness pass the week
Until I come home to your arms again
When to the grey world your bright rays shall leak.
Why race the days of which we've greatest need
While five more sluggards lazily crawl past?
Perhaps our renewed energy grants speed
To those we wish to hinder and make last;
     Or else, like me, unwillingly they leave
     And in your weekly absence weakly grieve.