An Attack on Sonnets

My bride shines brighter than the midday sun.
She blinds all lesser women with her glow.
To Heaven now her radiance does run
It pierces through the darkness down below.....

How false this all must seem
To those who read my work.
Must I support this meme?
To blandness do I shirk?

How dead the sonnet is.
How absolutely dead.
A form as dull and trite
As roses are bright red.

So you see the flowers
Forced into my thinking.
Drunk from Shakespeare's poison.
Why must I keep drinking?

Oft the meter changes
to add variety.
Can you see the changes?
No insobriety!

I start to feel a tad bit ill.
I stumble to the cold hard floor.
I start to feel the power of
That famous man from days of yore!

The sonnet's poison pulls me to its side
Now I must leave to talk about my bride!