A Sonnet
So tell me what you see through armour’s sight,
Is it a world that never can be judged?
Is your perception rationally right?
Is what you see too perfect to be touched?
Are all these figments growing from the soil
Created by a driven universe,
Or are these individuals who toil
Toward a struggle utterly perverse?
Is it not God who tells us what to do,
The all-purveying entity of mirth,
Who’s built himself this planet’s human zoo
To give his mind’s creation painful birth?
When all has gone and lights have dimmed to fade,
The nothingness remains where strings pervade.
© Joe Lake
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