I shelter honeycombs of citrus pies,
A swarm of earbugs ruling deadly hours.
My life is but a mass of glacé lies.

A blindfold of truth lustre holds my eyes,
The prisoners of its shield-disabled bars.
I shelter honeycombs of citrus pies.

I mine for spatial diamonds in the skies,
My broken heart laments the fallen stars.
My life is but a mass of glacé lies.

I wake up and my dream instantly dies,
I'm no Marvel who puppets superpowers.
I shelter honeycombs of citrus pies.

A pair of bone-rimmed specs of old and wise,
Betrayals, with specks of conversant scars.
My life is but a mass of glacé lies.

My chords deceive me too in howls of cries,
My barren hopes see no more meteor showers.
I shelter honeycombs of citrus pies.
My life is but a mass of glacé lies.

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A/N : And I've finally written a Villanelle! I can't be happier because this is my FAVOURITE form of poetry (especially for my love for restricted, rhythmic rhymes) and I've been wanting to pen down one for so long. I hope it has come off fine. :)