Beyond the stories everyone has heard
Beneath the substance right below our feet
A tragedy is told that seems absurd
A sophistry that no one should repeat
And yet, by repetition, we’re entranced
We bow before the gods proclaiming “truth”
The “truth” by which their lies are all enhanced
Provides us with refreshment most uncouth
Dichotomy of sophistry is this
A worm that eats up filth and shits out gold
Like Death exists to give us all a kiss
Like poetry that grows semantic mold
They say the word of god should be sublime
I say it needs a final couplet rhyme.
This entry was posted on Wednesday, July 31st, 2024 at 10:28 pm and is filed under Sonnets. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.
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