The creature slept 'neath the tree in deep shade And glared at those who by it passed disturbed It would love no more than the most t'would hate Till alas it arose and killed a bird This beast, a creature, one without a name It stood higher than a mountain up straight But would slouch and approach its helpless aim And would make a display of its slow fate Bearing great fangs each of a four inch length With a flow of blood endless as it drips An animal's slain to increase its strength And it roamed the Earth till it boarded ships This creature then killed so mercilessly That there was no food and it could not be I realize there are some meter errors but I wrote it in about five to ten minutes for an English assignment so try and pretend it's perfect. -Floyd
It's perfect. Sonnets, are not an easy thing! I tend to live in iambic pentameter...Stressed, unstressed, stressed, unstressed. or is it unstressed, stressed, unstressed, stressed... Either way, I prefer my syllables unstressed...I drink less that way.
