The Abecedarian of Rust and Verdigris
An abecedarian of rust and verdigris,
A congeries of thoughts, a mind’s chaotic art,
A phantasmagoria of memories that seize
The cerebral pabulum and tear it all apart.
The cacophony of past regrets, a doleful canticle,
Assails the placid present with its dissonant demand,
A mordant and tendentious whisper, not a syllable
Articulate, but spectral, from a long-forgotten land.
This inner conclave of my being, where the daemon dwells,
Its parochial concerns of a livid, petulant despair,
Weaves its capricious threads through all my psychic parallels,
A chthonian and liminal presence, omnipresent there.
I am an epistemological conundrum, an enigma wrapped
In the circumlocution of a life’s meandering scroll,
My spirit, immured and by its own designs entrapped,
The obsequious and pusillanimous attendant of my soul.
Upon the soporific silence, a new notion takes its seat,
A jejune and otiose reflection on the past's decay,
The aposiopesis of a feeling incomplete,
An anemic, pallid version of what was, but yesterday.
A supererogatory effort, to re-clothe the skeletal,
To aurify the memory with some quixotic sheen,
But every pavid effort is a futile spectacle,
A plangent and lugubrious attempt to intervene.
The exigency of now, the present's stark, unyielding plea,
Commands a new perspective, one not forged in bygone strife,
To eschew the solipsistic echoes and ineffably
Embrace the palimpsest of this interminable life.
And so, I find my palingenesis in the slow dissolve,
The crepuscular descent of every incandescent thought,
As all the eremetic fantasies I could not quite resolve,
Become the panegyric of a battle bravely fought
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