April 30, 2026

Archon's Atrophy.Sonnet 30

The Rise of the Redactor King

Among the panicked, pale, and fading throng,One figure stands with eyes of vitriol green,To master every right and every wrong,And rule the gaps of all that lies between.He wears a cloak of heavy, black strikethroughs,And wields a scepter of erasing lead,To curate all the whispers and the news,And harvest all the words the people dread.He is the Censor, Tyrant of the Blur,Who feeds upon the stutter and the stain,Until the very laws of life concur,To bow before the glory of his reign.With every breath, a sentence he deletes,To pave with silence all the golden streets.

No comments:

Post a Comment