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Rotten Fruit
Icy tendrils wrap vicelike round my heart
The dread of one becoming obsolete
This terror seeks to wrench my soul apart.
As one whose fate was inscribed from the start
As rotting fruit turns brown and over-sweet
Icy tendrils wrap vicelike round my heart.
And as the shame of second place so smarts
It blooms and fruits, cloying and indiscreet
This terror seeks to wrench my soul apart.
The chasm of mediocrity imparts
The rotting melancholy of defeat
Icy tendrils wrap vicelike round my heart.
If wanting desperately were called an art
I’d be immortal, pure, without deceit
This terror seeks to wrench my soul apart.
I’ll rot like fruit not taken from the cart
My happy resolution incomplete
Icy tendrils wrap vicelike round my heart
This terror seeks to wrench my soul apart.
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My name is Lavanya Mani and I'm a rising junior. I adore poetry and I find some of the more intricate poetic forms really interesting, which is why I wrote this villanelle. A lot of anxieties can feel like they're stuck on a loop, which is why I think a poetic form that uses repetition is really great for talking about that kind of thing.