Greetings, @d-pend. As always, you accommodate the most oxymoronic word mating. At first sight, at least. But the more we dig into the words and phrases the more sense they make; in fact, polysemy can be the real “problem.”
This poem, as @quillfire has suggested, may be read along the lines of the HF20 ramifications (not difficult with words such as chaos, errant, mana—which sounds like manna—, and all the dirty laundry venting going on around).
But I won’t go there this time either. We can inevitably make the connection, though as part of the general reflection on chaotic affairs.

Let me start by playing with the combinations of multiple meanings, which in this case are actually interconnected (all roads lead to Rome).

Even though we tend to associate a “suite” with comfort and luxury, a suit can also be a set of computer programs or a set of musical pieces (especially classical/instrumental). Harmony and chaos coexist in all these scenarios and so they do in life (or in video gaming, for that matter).

The idea of chaos is framed by the words errant and fickle (wandering and deceitful). This lack of stability permeates throughout the poem to the very end, the “errant rays”. When do we make sense of life? At what cost? What do we keep from the wandering days?

In between we have nothing but pithy, empty phrases that speak of betrayal. The sense of despair before a chaotic world is numbed by the musical allusions, “sentry rhythm”, “Cluster of sweet comfort within noise.”

Isolation/escapism, especially in music, is used by many as a way to combat fire with fire, noise with noise. We forgive the masses for their ineffectiveness and fix memories in musical notes. Solitude, chaos and nomadism can fit into a nostalgic suite.