A Petrarchan Sonnet in iambic pentameter
With a single voice they cry out loud
Stoking the flames of fear, its us they drive
Toward a world, they build, they shape the hive.
The drones, the kings and queens behind the shroud ,
Direct as one, only where they're allowed.
To think alike, dissent cannot survive.
Only observe the facts that they contrive
The Great Gaslight takes place behind a cloud.
Cast off the lie, embrace the truth, and live
Don't quake in fear before their awful plot
But live a life of liberty of thought
Their only power is that which we give
To them, to strain out truth through liars sieve
The Great Gaslight should never be allowed
