My torments renewed
a sigh designated, to my ancient feud
I don't believe anyone, anything...
She that hath made me as a king...
How carelessly daunting
How decidedly Flaunting
My joints freeze up
My brain twisted full backwards
The words choke in my breath,
gaping, horrible, rambling, spewing forth those wicked convictions
The blood curdling scream is my sole comfort.
and it happens to come suspicously short.
Plain as text, Her and her cohort.
This fete of her betrayal.
I sit in my room, more and more frail.
In my pile of clothes, weaping at woes.
"How could she do this" I routinely remarked.
I thought back to my car, messily parked.
She still loved me then,
writing me neat notes with her pen.
Playing her farce...
What had I done?
(What a sickly disturbing pun....)
To deserve such a shun?
Yet I am arrogance... I am sin
(They are closely akin)
There's a big whole
Black as unlit coal
Desisting in my poetics,
Putting away all her affects
The ring, it's dull d