A heart that’s content with wandering in heartache, dressed under false light of a house to be let, is a poor sanctuary that intends to leave your serenity at stake. Waiting each day for things to change, you’ll make wishes blowing on candles of trust, hoping for you it’ll beget love in the heart that’s content with wandering in heartache. Tough luck that you got reeled in like a silver hake to be consumed whole, fins and bones, in a devious gill net you mistook for home that happily left your very life at stake. Dressed now in threads of black lace at your Faith’s wake this foolish yearning still wouldn’t let you forget the heart that’s content with wandering in heartache. Having smoked till burnt and carved in turns, with each mistake you now see that there's nothing really to be upset about for the game was indeed to put your bliss at stake. Naively you walked this one-way street for fidelity’s sake, thinking enough time and patience will surely offset the pain for a heart that's already content with wandering in heartache, And gleefully standing by, now it watches you burning at the stake.
My very first and possibly last villanelle because it was a pain in the ass to write! It came out of a very short, really bad and hastily written poem whose core sentiment in the draft stayed with me and I knew I’d like to expand on that in the future. Also, I always wanted to write a villanelle so voila…I did both.