PART 1: CRUEL RESIGNATION OF FATE
It came and fled my grasp, leaving me bewildered
Like a fleeting whirlwind, it slipped right past me
A frame of a silhouette moving through the crowds
Devoid and void of any feeling- hollowed out
Echoes of ghosts- taunting and haunting
A dark cloud swoons and towers overhead
The hour hand ticks yet stays transfixed in place
At lightning’s pace, and yet, a snail’s crawl
The blaring hornets sync with my thoughts
The flickering lights blur and blind my sight
The chaos and the noise – my welcome reprieve
In the wake of the collapse, the castle crumbled
The scenes unravel in beguiling dissent
Frame by frame, sequence by sequence
Was it the jokers’ trick—or a slip of the tongue?
Freeze and Pause: Rewind and play back
Where were the fault lines that raptured?
Where were the fissures that split wide open?
Poised like a white stallion – perhaps too much
The deck was stacked – perhaps hubris was the bane
The pieces of the puzzle in mind – or so I thought?
Or the more horrific resignation – the truth in full view
Destiny had played its hand as planned.
A self-fulfilling prophecy unfolding in real time
Round and round the clock ends where it began
Only one road left: the open door most traveled
A path too familiar, silence too seductive—
Its cadence is soft, its stillness warm to my fall.
Here, the world stands frozen in time.
Here, gargoyles stand in guard, ready to spit fire.
A pink slip of paper- burning, glaring red
A fate sealed in print; a final verdict- irreversible
Lightning strikes in twin bolts – no mere happenstance
A story burned in inferno, denied an ending
A fuse that flared but never truly sparked
Snuffed out before its fire found breath.
Irony clad in fabric and fine leather,
The suit stitched to birth new possibilities
Now tightens like a noose round his neck
Leading to the helm of a silent dirge
From victory’s march to mourning’s procession
Another one bites the dust; another dusted and done
