Sonnet: Growth Of A Language

A language ought to grow up like a tree;
And lose its twigs and branches, leaves, may be;
Enlarge its trunk and spread its crown widely,
Yet, live and grow with time, immortally.

Most modern words, usages could be dead;
The needs of time will change its very form;
The style of hair can make a diff’rent head;
Yet, to a certain standard still conform.

All things must change or Life could be a bore;
Variety is the spice of life- all say;
New arguments could change its very core;
We cannot drink the same soup everyday.
A language must be dynamic always;
Yet, shines with splendor akin to Sun’s rays.