Vicissitude

-Part 1-

A world entranced, eschewing commonwealth.
Sudden, swift, and hastily unheralded.
Like a pulled trigger; a flipped switch.

Panic ensues, aggregating anguish and fury.
Heartbeats racing- her pupils, dilating.
A shattered accord, relapsing dogmas.

What remains to be proclaimed,
now maligns her truth.
A waking dream, bemusing absolute.

Blighted songs revel betwixt trauma,
of a rabidity burrowing its spiked spurs.
A hexed chant, engulfing perception.

Inexorable treachery brandishing her dagger.
Its scar sprees with each sway of hickory.
A pavlovian wish, seeking causality.

-Part 2-

Mangled reality, a notion double-crossed.
Murmurs of the frail, the tempest-tossed.
Soiled essence, caged and earthbound.
Futile wish, unstrenuous but heartbound.

"My discipline has waned.. A fated demise?
All's lost and yet, I mustn't surmise..
I am illuded, with no time to make amends.
My vision is hazy, my senses in a blend."

Streams of thought calm yet in shambles.
A flow of words; veracious but scrambles.
Ruinous epiphanies make ways and dawn.
Damning allure of pandemonium's spawn.

Her worlds reborn, pasts forsworn; a corrupt desire.
Hypnotized resolve, rabid devolve; a dormant ire.
Marred awaiting, sinfully abating; a faltered will.
Yearning change, longing exchange; a maudlin distill.

"I am apathy, the inertia of my conscious.
Lingering among reticent voices; my oblique conscience.
I am langour, jeering at my own wrath.
Taunting my own velleity, dimming my own path."

-Part 3-

A final ember of defiance ignites, releasing an intrinsic pain.
Within its final verses straggled a rhyming refrain.
Resonating through an ardent revue,
for an unyielding pledge; a broken chain.

Silken hues of a syndicated riddle begin their rite.
The spectral ballet of her chroma, dispelling this plague of spite.
Each one a beacon, responding to its cue,
enacting a tapestry of new destinies to shine bright.

And a light shines through a pinprick; a tethered hymn.
A mother's song harmonized, becoming a light from within.
Whims of a past self echo.. Whims of the ingénue.
To tell the same tale anew, but cleanse a forgotten sin.

Shadows now splayed, a purity once subdued.
Familial covenants beckoned; regal and yet crude.
A presage for the verses of ordinance to continue,
in a sonnet of existence, both feeble and shrewd.

"I can finally see what lies betwixt and behind.
What I had been missing in the abscess of the maligned.
The juncture of my cremated rendezvous,
and my inner child serenading me through the tide."