SONNET 466
By JH Sayyar
Lots are placed in Cocktail divine
Foolish trace on earth day and night
Some get by chance, some pay fine
My mystic eyes see: lots red flight
Fortune favors fools, not the wise
None knows its secret laws at all
Fate sits on a bough of Eden cries
Think why here your sorrows pall
Do not trace the lots in your Muse
Lots sleep in a dark and dreary cell
Deep thinking and times both refuse
Turning face; says, go into the hell
Lots in a Book of Lots I have seen
Wisdom opens it, not labor spleen
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