Sonnet: LORD OF THE PESTS

Seek pardon; my actions and injustice.
On bended knees— I fall, my humble liege,
The tyranny of this heart that lays siege.
My vain soul sings with a propitious lilt
Pecuniary troubles, forever tilt
On my barrel of hope, they’ll empty
Cruel slave driver, thy fines are hefty
Looking at me with that heavy brow
I coyly blush with shame; suppressed ire
My body fatigued, my anxiety rests
This freedom outlaw’d by a stranger
Whom I call master, lord of the pests’
The scourge of his avarice spreads danger
Days will drift by, I’ll fight-with renewed zest.

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