Sonnet CXVIII

I’m bathed in light of clearest blue azure.
Around me walls begin to animate.
They leap away, become a hue so pure,
One thinks the walls are burning with blue flames.

And glowing from the source a fire demure,
A screen of blue, where dreams will thus be made,
Where bliss is manufactured and procured
And peace and calm erase my dying hate.

My damn computer. Haunting, burning flame,
Which animates my mind before I sleep.
I need that time to help recuperate!
You steal my sleep, make nasty little dreams,
destroy my life, and always make me late.
You damn computer, burn within thy greed!