Villanelle for a Vilaness

 

He sank into the cup where he drowned,

Fizzling out, smoking, resigned,

and died, wearily, without a whimper of sound.

 

Then lamenting, his lives final round,

Cursing it as cosmically designed

He sank into his cup where he drowned

 

Falsely hoping, things, they might turn around

He sidled up, just, in quotes, “to unwind�?

and died, wearily, without a whimper of sound.

 

After years of thoughts all unsound

The solution finally sprang to his mind

He sank into his cup where he drowned.

 

His final words, he thought, would resound

Yet reached the fringe of unthinking mankind

and died, wearily, without a whimper of sound

 

His soul cluttered and forever unbound,

His ex-wife’s words only scathed and maligned

He sank into his cup where he drowned

And died, wearily, without a whimper of sound

 

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