Charlie’s fuss (petrarchan sonnet)

Again, a pale at the glimpse of Charlie’s fantasy,
Induces saline fluids in pace,
A “hallow” and apace.
Within his thoughts lie an antonym piracy,
But it seems like a fallacy.
As his muse passes his face,
His guts hide and erase.

“Fund” was a hindrance,
An unsolicited guest,
It lead to his dexterity impotence.
Like an ambiance,
The challenge was an infest,
Though, his success and failure would be a compatible alliance.