The terzanelle, as its name suggests, is a hybrid form, adapting the villanelle form to terza rima verse.
All I remember from earlier days bends to the form of another's glance that lingers long where the juke-box plays, softening the contours of circumstance. A promise sleeps in a distant room, bends to the form of another's glance, dwells on the thought of escaping the tomb but hope and the wardrobe are all but bare. A promise sleeps in a distant room dreaming of waking, of learning to dare to shout through the music - remember me! but hope and the wardrobe are all but bare. Life is the wine, and the wine is free of the weight of the old, and the rash desire to shout through the music - remember me! And the touch of a hand is a funeral pyre of all I remember from earlier days of the weight of the old, and the rash desire that lingers long where the juke-box plays.