a study toward sonnet #897 by FisherKingKQJ
I'm tired and no longer gracious when gamed,
The sick world leaves me with red eyes dry sore;
Third world injustice by hysteria is framed,
And honour downsized with biases yore,
And perfection engorged by more and more,
And master skill confused with some good luck,
And truth mixed into white lies, bagged in-store,
And good entrapped by muddle, murk, with muck,
And knowledge laid low by context and pluck,
And strength by drugs unduly built to power,
And virtue softened by threats of a ruck,
And faith leaned on at last resort with lower.
You, my honey, can enchant these millstones,
Nuance of love can tap them into milestones.
(Chorus)
o $10,000,000 millstones
o $10,000,000 deadweights
o $10,000,000 sinkers
[Autocube3 - for 3d interactive movies.]
SPADES DIAMONDS CLUBS HEARTS