Sonnet 449

Where yet fake virtue is now worn as fame
As plastic crown upon a well coiffed pate,
And of hypocrisy which bears false name,
We show sad worth that words may never state;
‘I speak no evil for see this my charm
To ward off spirits that pure principles decay,
And so accord myself all pious harm
To punish those who dare sweet truth betray.’
So now here self declared, a moral god
And thus in proud pomposity to rule
O’er serfs that clear deserve to be down trod
Where every word they utter proves them fools.
This darkling vaudeville of hypocrisy
Is but the prelude to rank tyranny.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

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