Achromatic Pentameter

Have you not looked upon horizons pink, Outstretched from dreary skies of yesternight, That vanquish tearful blue as cottons blink And gray reflects the glow of lunar light? Are stargazed lilies grown for one alone - A selfish king who chains the royal moon? Defiant highness knows, despite his throne, That petals plucked tomorrow wilt too soon. Don’t claim your wretched sonnets poetry Because all lines adhere to rules defined; No beauty breathes where vibrant imagery Has fallen victim of the poet’s mind. Your broken records spin in days gone by While you refuse the right of time to die.