A sullen shift,
For my transient gift.
A descent into perdition,
Widening the seismic rift.
Behind fractious eyes,
And their languid disguise.
The dichotomy of the heart,
Shouldn’t precipitate surprise.
This life will leave its holes,
And the frail will lose control.
Most are victims of puerile mind,-
And diminutive soul.
While I’ve been ripped apart at the seams,
And squandered some dreams.
The scission of my sanity,
Will never need to be redeemed.
I’ve embraced the disturbed,
My erstwhile smile has been curbed.
While pain is never innocuous,
I still refuse to be unnerved.