And make us friends without those games of chess

A villanelle  will trouble the obsessed
As ever scrupulous ,we want the best
So  in this mode   the manic are depressed

I once was  worn by scruples, mind undressed.
I did not view   them as a  holy test
A villanelle  will trouble the obsessed

God does not torment us,I confess.
Though delicate of mind I  failed to rest
And  in that mode,  the manic are depressed

Though God be mountain, he has interest
His cliffs have paths, with   demons unoppressed
Any words  will trouble the obsessed

In depression, truth is unrepressed
And so slowed down we have time to it ingest
In this mode   the manic are depressed

Yet, by  love, in our world, we invest
And make our friends without  those  games of chess
Any form   can trouble the obsessed
When  in this mode   the manic are depressed