Trigger warning!
The Shriek of excruciation
: A Petrarchan Sonnet
Screams of pain echoed in repeat.
As colors dwindled into horizon of void.
Succumb thy psyche causeth thee to be paranoid.
As thy cadence of myocardium started to discrete.
Thy world's quiet but been disrupt by many.
Thy threads of pain hath wrecked thine embodiment.
Upon thy midnight wanders thoughtlessly —
crying in sentiment.
But thy life quitely streameth with such continuity.
Ye, shalt not be dismayed.
Thy world you abide's a mock.
And maketh you weigh some rock.
Don't alloweth 'em to get you swayed.
Don't believ'th in a facaded flock.
Do believ'th in God and wilt not suffered.
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