Sunday Sonnet (NaPoWriMo Day 12)

I was an idiot Bard.

When I sold songs of dreams long gone and stale
I drowned my toms with thick reflections.
Epic faders taped down and stunned for fun.
My roundtable revolted and the quest failed.
"Good" is not enough to fully lay claim to the grail.
My vision was to shake the world and stun
not merely hold hands, place love, and drum.
The knights knew better than to merely wail.

Now I'm bitter and done and dead to touch.
For my lost youths want to explode the greed.
To drink oceans salt to purify souls.
To shake blood from crowds, so intense, so rough.
To take on every dream, all sins, every need.
I wanted no pain and to pay no tolls.

There are better sonnets in my book. You could buy it.