More often than not, many bewildered illusions forestall my mind uttering "this is enough information for today" and leave me agaped forever.They cant be blamed as I cherish them forever but second too late I'm asked why I dwell too deep as the things that are unobtainable can't be grasped by the utmost reverie. Why everything superficially inch-perfect is still glitched within me? What do the hoaxed eminent,conspicuous saccharines,lied truths,filled vacants and peaked comedowns encapsulate for a man? Is there any way to disparage the pride that submerges with blood and runs in transients clayed body? When the hope inturdes to hope again I look for a way that will help a chastened entity inside me,least worthy part of this universe to discover it's lost glories.The glories that are capable of awakening my conscience to see the world through third eye.
I stopped writing doesn't really mean I don't think