I wanted to write a scary sonnet, but jeez …
Sinner In the Hands of an Angry God
Oh, it's appropriate to be afraid,
My dear, but I'm afraid it won't suffice.
Think of the dog who eyes the mess he's made
And hears his wrathful mistress calling, once so nice.
And what a mess you've made, my pet.
Isn't it It's such a shame you couldn't get it right—
There's no excuse, no reason to forget
Your disobedience till you're contrite.
So close your eyes and let me see your back.
Empty your mind of everything but love—
And fear, of course. Now let your arms fall slack,
My sweet, my own, my precious turtledove.
Believe you've earned this pain. It won't last long,
And afterwards we'll sing our lover's song.
Update: I just couldn't stay convinced that line 6 had only 5 feet—and sometimes you gotta wear shades.
Another Update: Bandaid on line 4. I really have to learn to count.
Yet Another Update: Better bandaid on line 4.
8:36:41 PM
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