War of the Words [sonnet]

Posted on Updated on


The scout returned and broke the wretched news:
The citadel of dreams was breached by those
whose cold prosaic manner misconstrues
the warm Arcadian heart which overflows.
They stormed the walls with ordinary ink
(for that was all they wielded in their quills).
They thought into that city they could slink
with rubber stamps gained from diploma mills.
Yet, though the walls had crumpled from their weight
(for they were legion, marching in a line)
that city they would never arrogate
nor could they its true dwellers undermine.
Espousing shallow intellect in verse
is in this world a sickness and a curse!

© 2012, Alan Morrison

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s