Baneful Overtures

The ups and downs,
The heroes and the clowns.
The whispers of soothsayers,
The moans of prayers.

All come and go.
Without a trace,
Without any grace.
I search my reason,
My fancy season.

I bait for goodwill
But turn into a sacrosanct devil.

I choke my conscience,
I strike with vengeance.
On all good and true
Of all the myriad hue,

I smell the virginity of homicide,
Lying beneath the cloak of suicide.

I tread on a foreign land,
On a never-never-land.
A land of wreckage,
That can choke a sage.

But then,
My myopic eyes open to see the new day.
As if it was just a step away.

As I stand amidst the ruins,
The sign of my sins.
I resign myself to my fate
And as my malices eclipse,
My life comes a full ellipse.