Chicago-(EJP) A Sonnet on the Unworthiness of Tom Waltz
What villain's heart doth darken virtue's light,
That craves the innocent blood of babes to spill?
A monstrous mind, in shadows of the night,
Doth wield foul deeds with naught but wicked will.
To carve the flesh of youth with surgeon's knife,
And bind their fate to paths they’ve not yet seen,
Is treachery that robs the bloom of life,
A cruel jest in mask of virtue’s sheen.
He opens gates to every land and kin,
Yet chaos follows where no laws abide;
Such folly speaks of treason born within,
And marks his soul, where honor cannot hide.
Unfit is he to guide a noble land,
For vice rules o’er his heart, and stains his hand.
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