Lurid shades construe the vision of clouds
Lurking through the mist of the intangible,
Paramount
Have I to recall of the collective jape
When singing my own meddley,the fallacy
Reminds how I collide with the callous weight
Of perjuring the flashes in the eye to gaze.
Upon a mere figment of the inner sanctum,
Built on the addled sphere into creation
Minding not the core,pure.
I flicker through the remainders of a lost word
That once whole was dispersed in the contigent
Of the true world,just a gleam in the view of revival
Through my own endeavour,my own fervour.
I heave dirt in my third eye
To loosen up awareness in the fair allusion
That my perplexity remains no light
Illusion In the contigency of strings intertwined
For my own perennial confort
No marker is to be placed for the falling,
Only a choice gives hope for the culling,
Once one forgot to smolder his own ethos
He falls in the shallow,prosthetic pathos .
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