Solitudinarianism [sonnet]

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Further into obscurity he goes;
far from the madding crowd he overthrew.
The myst’ry of this life’s arpeggios
has cauterized his earthly field of view.

There’s nothing left to be or to extol
(apart from things which cannot now be seen).
Now knowing who he is and what’s his role,
he exited the room and The Machine.

But while as retrogressive he’ll be damned
and shirking his responsibilities;
in truth, his code has just been reprogrammed
and others aren’t the ones he seeks to please.

Reclusive hermitry’s the only way
to handle what’s become this world’s mad fray.

© Copyright, Alan Morrison, 2017

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