a study toward sonnet #807 by FisherKingKQJ
Accusations stream off your tongue as glib,
With covering smiles you're untrusting cruel,
Displays more of love you still want to crib,
I'd soon as tort my tears to rocket fuel.
Verse backbiting backsliders goes your pule,
I shake my fist on your behalf at them;
Verse guttersniping gripers goes your duel,
I shadow your sharp tongue to point condemn.
You could use me as spitoon for your phlegm,
I'd cut my arms if you were just to ask;
Tell me to die, I'll book the last requiem,
Or broadcast me putdown so I might bask.
In midst of tribulations small and fierce,
Your subtle smirks and livid eyes do pierce.
(Chorus)
o $10,000 fierce
o $10,000 blazing
o $10,000 heated
[Autocube3 - for 3d interactive movies.]