The Entropic Ossuary.Sonnet 03

III. The Desiccation of the Well of FormsHe reached the well where Platonic shadows dwell,Now desiccated, cracked like sun-parched bone;The archetypes, in which the cosmos fell,Are ossified and carved in silent stone.The "Ideal Chair" is but a splintered husk,The "Perfect Circle" bent into a line;The atmosphere is heavy with the muskOf rotted concepts, sour and malign.He knelt before the drought-choked basin’s lip,His hydraulic systems wheezing in the dust;No draught of pure, essential truth to sip,Only the grit of universal rust.The Knight of Cogs, with oculars of gold,Beheld a world increasingly uncontrolled.