Day: Sep 23, 2015

Scrawl [sonnet]

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When nought but honour matters anymore
a crazy sense of gleedom grips the soul
and flings all hope with gladness to the floor
(for worthless dreams can’t make what’s broken whole).

When nought but virtue thrills you with its shine
and there’s no leechlike selfdom left to pet,
you’ll find you’ve reached a mutant borderline.
All feigning’s then revealed in silhouette.

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