Death And All His Friends

Through the doldrums of hapless desolation I perpetually wade,

In blissful oblivion of the farewell transcendence so long ago bade;

Each time my idyllic forms of magical realism go up in smoke,

It is on me that I’ve rendered myself tragically, incorrigibly broke.

Of delirium, of destiny, of hara-kiri and suicide,

To parlous and nerve-wracking idiosyncrasy, I inadvertently chide;

Nothing appears to matter, no entity perky or quirky attempts to stir the mind,

Oh, screw ‘em confinements too, they’re innately blind.

In the myopic myths of contentment I did wholly sink,

Why did I then fail to decipher The Malicious Wink?

“What the fuck am I doing?”— Why didn’t I ask?

Why in the glory of complacency did I splendidly bask?

The premonitions that washed me through to these shores are far from justifiable,

Occurs no ambivalence, no option to me that might just seem viable;

As doom presents heartily its diabolical autograph,

Scarcely do I discern I’m crafting a pitiable cenotaph.

In the wake of this tenebrous darkness I apprehensively deliberate,

Alternatives appear scant that would cease to debilitate;

Exist no catalysts to banish the catastrophic viruses of intransigence,

Insurmountable it feels to rake in the Elysian of excellence for scholarly remembrance.

Perhaps it is tetchy extravagance, perhaps too much for comprehension,

In attempting to craft a realistic simile I feel trepidation;

In my swindling depths lay the subsistent, quintessential key,

Alas, if only I hadn’t resolved to flee from it, deserting the cynosure-to-be.

O Sly Merchant Of Fortune, glory be thou name,

May the irreplaceable mirth of condescending victory you proudly claim;

From cataclysmic adversity to effulgent rectitude may fate seamlessly navigate,

New times of glorious opulence may she richly promulgate.

Blow the incredibly lustful, undulant desires I quixotically deem,

Reality scarcely is diligent in tailing every wistful dream;

Through the doldrums of hapless desolation I perpetually wade,

In blissful oblivion of the farewell transcendence so long ago bade ...