Can I be honest? This poetic form is a pain in the ass.
Okay. Perhaps I’m exaggerating this a bit. But I genuinely did find it quite difficult. Always have. Probably always will.
The Petrarchan Sonnet, like the Shakespearean Sonnet, is divided into two parts: an octave that introduces the theme or a problem, and a sestet that solves it. The octave follows the rhyme scheme ABBAABBA. Now for the sestet, you have several options: CDCCDC, CDECDE, CDDECE, and actually, whatever you like, so long as it is in iambic hexameter (that’s a total of 12 syllables per line).
Torrents of rusty winds billowed across the room—
The faint smell of blood, the gentle humming ruckus.
Scarce of light, the cellar; the sun near its solstice.
Bound to the walls—a faint rustle of chains—the gloom.
With auspice, my soul—like our love—they would consume.
Show mercy; no mercy with a scythe so monstrous—
That Death should wield—would prove to be quite so noiseless.
What dare loomed, not so, for in sadness now entomb.
They spoke with a tone that sent shivers down my spine;
They judged my love—our love—that knew no bounds of Hell,
Nor of Heaven, nor Plains—the rules we knew too well.
Bare, naked, I lay—to so be sliced down below.
Felt no pain from the cut (in thought seemed only fine);
More than ever, felt clearly your love as I go.