Anger in Serendipity

Anger, in a fit of strained desperation

Hurt emotions piling up the lacerations

The involuntary hands of invisible souls

Calling out in agony for reassuring roles

To wipe away the misery and smoothen

The aggravated surface within my barren

In utterance of silent whispers for an eternity

In longed contentment and beloved serenity

These bloomed blossoms of last spring

Emerged anew to reiterate my bleak being

And revisit the utterance of the season again

And play with the innocent tolerances in vain

Summon, if I may, with assertive reminiscence

What I was promised was to make any sense

And could I be wrong again in my clouded lens

To expect a promise to be relived in moments

I stand hereby to explore the shower of infinity

I pledge, I’d be still, and await my serendipity