Vicious Rhythm

The lump in my throat compelled me to believe. that once there was a time of festiveness, which has now turned into a vicious rhythm. The unrealized desires are reduced to tears, where the laughter of childhood turned into subdued smiles. The severance of your own begetter, aches just like dry spells in a well-plowed field. One's good spirits become a cage of gloom for the other. They thought they were emancipating, but who knew they were culminating in something that hadn't even commenced yet.