on overwhelming alignment
by the actions of the mind, I lament.
is an energy enough detail
to sustain inevitable
outcomes thought to entail
periodic notions of a fable.
for I am kidding when I do jest
deep hideous caverns of thought
those I’d rather did not rest
upon my weary mind – I’m fraught
close encounters with my nemesis,
the Beezlebub a reckoning
dispirited upon my own oasis
I stand assured while soon I’m drowning.
will wonder if I might ever know that decline
an invitation, a packaging of my own whine.