I grew in this..
numerous true relicts
of futuristic moon-lit visions
my superstitious true religion
we're unisonous, in colour since rubik's, Cubes division
Elliot, Doom-a-witting, better yet, my pulse's shrinking
by every beat, 92 - tuning systems
the youth'll listen to ambiguous rhythms
chalking out into muse-less lyrics, a student's living
gradual euphoria - from nudes to nipples!
ugh, now my prudence kicks in!
minutes, but I'm too persistent
*sniffles* rudimental fictions
it ain't lucrative still, I see it boomeranging
as a mural image for a nascent lucid living
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