Infernal Dialogue

curse this whole contrivance
where our pen perverts our thoughts
bastardizing our expression
into ostentatious dross

which, indeed, is most ironic
even now, i must abide
by the terms of its imposing
despite how it makes me writhe

were it only that i could resist
the pretense of the mind
set upon me with insistence
i am loathe not to comply

for the state of my affliction
disallows for deviation
from its ardent homeostatic
cognitive disposition

so beholden to its power
though emboldened by the hour
i am helpless to assert my will
and thus, i lay here, dour

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