Dissonance.

As simple as it could get in words
we never like what we are subject to.
An abject situation in essence
falter, fade in my dissonance.

Now those who had to walk, walked
in pale skies shrouded by talk.
And then those that stayed whispered
to those who had been bygones, again.
In this enchanting script of melancholy lies
why should we wait in tumultuous times?

Frantic diction prescribed in inscription
she knows I wont be coming home so soon.
And then those who had dressed and left
return because when they did try to revert,
their lips jeopardized every sentence,
while I scribble ardor in my dissonance.

The question that remains is such,
that it neglects all in sudden rush.
And those who did derive penance
are now glued in my dissonance.

Now, the rest is prelude to the next exit
when all love shall cease to exist.
Whence shall arise a need to leave
subdued in pain and certain harmony.
Polished tones in tune with life
a little drama, total nonchalance alright.

But it is true when it hits, shades of excess
to all that we have been unfortunate to witness.
Its that gloom which permeates through
but only if she had been better than you.

And those who did evoke a naked smile
are eroded in malevolent demise;
while those who did regain some sense
are further lost in my dissonance...