Feel the reverberations of my dolor, apprehend the intensity of my ire, survey the labyrinth of my destiny, and with sagacity, navigate the trajectory of my journey. Amidst the dichotomy of virtue and malevolence, the vacillation between euphoria and despondency, I grapple with the existential quandary of mortality or vitality, to don a sanguine countenance or endure the torrents of tears. Retreating from my proximal sphere, your exodus raises profound inquiries into the erstwhile camaraderie; once a confidant, now obscured by the veils of my own credulity.
Crushed, my heart lies trampled, analogous to the oblivion of dust, and in this desolation, I stand ensconced in solitude. Your apathy, an arctic gust, obstinately refuses to cast even an ephemeral gaze upon my predicament. In this crucible of emotions, do I stand as a lone sentinel, abandoned amidst the maelstrom of internal discord?
© Trystin M.D Rehfeld