Sonnet 133, by NY Shakespeare Exchange

Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan
For that deep wound it gives my friend and me!
Is't not enough to torture me alone,
But slave to slavery my sweet'st friend must be?
Me from myself thy cruel eye hath taken,
And my next self thou harder hast engrossed:
Of him, myself, and thee I am forsaken;
A torment thrice three-fold thus to be crossed.
Prison my heart in thy steel bosom's ward,
But then my friend's heart let my poor heart bail;
Whoe'er keeps me, let my heart be his guard;
Thou canst not then use rigour in my jail:
     And yet thou wilt; for I, being pent in thee,
     Perforce am thine, and all that is in me.

Sonnet 133, from The Sonnet Project, by the New York Shakespeare Exchange.

Wow, brilliant rendition of this sonnet. Sinister and foreboding, it definitely expands my notions of Shakespeare, especially concerning his sonnets.  They aren't just about love, not in the romantic sense, that is.  They're also about darkness and violence, even if understated.