Routine Blossoms: Monotony in Full Bloom

Cherry blossoms, with a mundane grace, Drift d o w n Like hollow trees, in a world's embrace, Routine weeps, seeking a different place, In diluted streams of saccharine pink and white. Each petal's descent, a monotone refrain, A fading sunrise, repeating again, Is our existence a loop (x3) of endless replication, Or a dance within life's cyclic orchestration? Soon, the branches will stand bare, unveiled, Like skeletal bones, all adornment curtailed. Alas, this world, an unbroken circle of sameness, Dawns to dusks, in relentless tedium's harness, All that remains, the relentless clock's chime! In the sombre monotony of everyday's rhyme. We shall awaken once more, Time (quantified) in tasks we (e x p) l o r e, Not hours, nor days, or changing seasons, But in assignments, relentless reasons. Responsibility, a villain of our own design, It lurks, behind us, like a shadow's gleam, Smiling as it haunts the cherry blossom's dream. This is not a journey, but a steady ruination, We savor the blooms in brief salvation, Yet reality will resurge, undeniable, Drawing us back to the GRAND performance,, The fight for recognition, ambition's tirade, In our a c r i d blood, this fervor won't fade, And we pray, that in this relentless tale, The staleness of routine will not prevail.