ㅁ The thought climbs up astride its weary mount To better seek and target its intents, Infecting other minds like airbourne scents - A viral dream where every glance will count. A prophet then, I forge through these events, Betraying with my words their very fount And caring not at all - who could discount? You see them, now, such cloudy, cool portents. Let's undertake to rule the world's wide mind By sending out that energetic thought: Its consequences gradually unwind. And finally, behold what thinking wrought: Baroque descriptions seemingly designed To lift a universe up out from nought.
– a sonnet in iambic pentameter.
