Our link is a weakling, is leaking its ichor,
What once healed with brightness transformed to an eyesore.
My tone would have tried for a bad-ass purgation,
But bad aspiration filled tenor with stridor.
Constriction by ambiance killed the ambition
To activate gravitas, howl an emission.
The penchant for plainchant compliance is ancient,
Contrived an arrangement to gain my submission.
Cadenza got stuck underneath the credenza,
Impromptu agenda could not be addenda.
Familiar ritual lessened my deftness,
Prepared my ineptness by growing amentia.
Daruma will never have retinal rivals,
No longer divinely entwined, we are splitting.
Conditioned for quitting, I'm stifled by trifles.