The Tyranolog

Tyranolog, sit upon thy bench
Of acacia wood.
The Library of Alexandra lay 
To the foreground.

"By the law of the land
"All your knowledge
"Retain'th in these volumes.
"Thou must, on threat of imprisonment,
"Tell every book thou hast ever read
"Every paper, every thought thou heardst,
"And thou must tell which of these books
"It come'th from."

The little Ethiopian Boy
Glanced up at the large palace.
"I cannot tell what books
"I read to obtain my knowledge
"Tyranolog. For, I've read so many
"And have seen so much.
"It is all a part of my very soul.
"Cannot I make something beautiful
"Without having to tell what book I may have learned it from?
"Or must I, lonely, keep a log of every sentence I read
"And thereby put it into a file as large as this library
"And so find the exact phrase which inspired me?
"For, I have written in my short life
"A summation of what I know.
"Must I now recant every word I have ever read or heard
"Before my life's work be published?"

The Tyranolog threw down her gavel.
"Blasphemy! You hear the offense against wisdom!
"Throw this boy into the dungeon
"And burn every word he had ever written."

Such it was under the Tyranolog.