Sonnet 471

When gods do give the choice of blade or pen
Some choose keen edge for glint of gloried steel,
Where hubris hails the vice of haughty men
To take with force what merit will not yield.
There some use ink o’er blood to stanch their rage
And fight to raise the flag they choose to bear,
In tenets sure inequity assuage
Abetting cause in murky logic clear.
Of swords and stylos good and evil sway
And who stands right or wrong mere points of view,
Where gritted time abrades and wears away
The sheen that purposed credence once imbued.
Though despots scheme believing might is right,
They best not men who know that right is might.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

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