Still, silent, and serene-
you couldn't keep yourself from worrying,
detrimental anxiety, and a growing
dementia, overwhelmingly unnerving

falling from routine in a demented reverie
that drove you to the heights of your canopy
as your strength was sifting, and your vision waning

Staggering to maintain composure,
you were displaced by onlookers,
far and away, alone, to suffer
a cold fate for a fading smolder

in lieu of you grew,
or rather, burst forth the atrocious enormite
whom took root in you like a fungus might
and would pollute the inopportune

Dismally
The supreme sovereign, mother nature,
always regulates the departure
of the peculiar from the mediocre;
the pestilence of chance on death like a weed.