The Collector

Since the baby arrived on the weekend, computer time has gone out the window. So this week I intended to fuse two entries into one. Chuck Wendig had one on Death, celebrating the upcoming release of his new novel, Blackbirds. I missed the deadline for this one as he moved it forward a day, but I am still in time for the 100 Word Challenge. This week we had to do a sonnet. At least 14 lines, 10 syllables per line if you wanted to (I ditched this rule) and with the rhythm a-b-a-b c-d-c-d e-f-e-f g-g.

Picture pinched from here

The Collector

‘Midst the sycophants whispered chittering
The Collector utters a sibilant hiss
Bewtixt distain and lust He stares at the thing
“Thhiiiisss,” He hath pronounced, “I shall take thisssss”

His minions depart with alacrity
Unleashing famine, the pox, and clash of war
Destruction rained down on every city
Scourges blight and slay; life never naemore

Too slow for The Collector, so with tongue
He reaches out, a drop of saliva
Falls like acid rain and touches the sun
And Lo! Ra is slain! On Earth no survivor

Not even time for the last trump to sound
Nothing but corpses on the cold dark ground

And here’s a fluffy bunny to cheer you up after that, taken from here

*****
On a separate note, whatever was stopping me from writing comments on my own blog has magically disappeared, so I will go back through thanking people when I get a spare moment. I wasn’t snubbing you, it was some sort of technical glitch caused by the whims of the government, the stupid filtering software at school, and the idiotic ISP we have at home.