Aeolian Allusions: Ode to an Unfriend

It seems Ironic that, in your conceit,
You alone remain enamored
By your tortuous machinations
And your subventaneous jabber,
Clueless that your intended audience
Bide their time with stoical grace
Awaiting the imminent harmattan
To flense your fustian deception
Baring just feculent poverty beneath.

After a decade of boreal exclusion,
Welcome we, a warming zephyr!

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