Here's a sonnet of sheer badassery:
A badge of sorrow, pain, and suffering
he wears as if it were of his own flesh
for he alone has borne the awful weight
of thousand worlds destroyed at his behest.
A thousand souls unquenched lie in his path,
a thousand dreams lie shattered in his wake,
and if you stop to do the gory math
you'[l see these treach'rous folds are glory's make.
Aside him Reason lies a bloody mound
And Faith and Love have failed his thirst to slake
Cries and screams, he wears them as a crown,
for veangeance is all his for him to take.
Though gored by fortune, mankind won't give way
when evil reigns it reigns until it's slain.
And an incomplete one...
The dreadnaught gathers forces in the sky
to battle with that Gods of then and now
when collaps'd are the threads of every fate
fullfilled are the dreadnaught's soldier's vows.
A sky turned black by evil industry
fires unquenched by heroes or by Gods
the dreadnought makes his fate of steel and blood:
his lover, Chance, will guarantee good odds.
The fools that fight fall quickly as storm rains
their wives and friends die slowly in the gut
of th'dreadnoughts leviathan that coils again
around a world shortsighted and