I’m helping a housemate with their English class and we had to write a Shakespearean sonnet. Poetry is not my strength, but I was quite happy with this:
A judge in white who named all those you slew.
Don’t flinch, you learned, don’t fall for they will leave.
They cheer and shout each time your blade strikes true.
“What strength,” they claim; feed guilt to lies you weave.
You built yourself from steel and gold, so cold.
A sword you forged within your broken heart.
The fool who once thought their frail mask would hold.
Betrayed, they took you for a work of art.
The blade shattered, so their trust was stolen.
You see now, this illusion was fleeting.
Do you not know how far you have fallen?
Still He waits to bow deep in His greeting.
Broke down and failed, you changed; strangely set free.
And He holds His arms out wide, “come with me.”