Sonnet I
The nights of old darkened
The skies of yorn are dim
And the darkness harkened
A foulness of wretched kin
With eyes of widened breadth
And lips that no man sees
A mind that schemes death
And brings all men to their knees
It is but a muscle in reality
But the emotions it creates are sin
It is deceitful above all anonimity
It is the heart within
Deep, dark conniving
Quick, slick contriving
- Samuel Raisesworde
3 comments:
I like it. The metering is odd, but it's much better than any of my first sonnets. Nice job.
Yes, well, I figured it's time for a new Sonnet type. There's Italian and Shakespearean [if Shakespeare can make one up why can't I? =P] and I introduce the new Blank Verse Sonnet which has no manner of meter at all. Instead it frees the author to use as many metrics as flows naturally. I call it 'Interpretive','Spirian', 'Raiseswordean' sonnet.
...
=P
I admire your innovation and bold poetic spirit. Carry on, good chap. :P
(I invented my own type of sonnet too. Seriously. Maybe I'll show it to you someday.)
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