Perturbations of Nuances

I avoid the light that invades the space of the windows because it perturbs the nuances of my thoughts:those frigid sepulchral memories of yesteryears' love lying uniformly beyond a damp partition of consciousness,trying to escape as a means of a venerable excuse for me to decimate this flesh and soul which gives residence to those effulgent ponders that waver restlessly and tangent upon the structure of the optimists' creed that was bent from capricious minds and hypomanic-states to which nothing states of the verities of the now abysmal dolor which rings through my heart with incessant intonation of a melody that schlepps through my senses in remoteness of euphony which springs forth from mouths of angels vocalizing of their freedom.And within those octaves I hearken of the loss of my freedom which I once embraced in the solitude that abraded piquancy of vibrant day,having worn it away to evince the cold moments of paltry existence when those unawakened fleeting thoughts(which are semblable to windows of graves)allow no memory of yesteryears' love bereft to evade,and no glint of light to invade the eyes of death.