The Art of Exhaust and Self-Reflection

In the
Pupils
Of
Imbecility
.
.
.
Are
Pools of
.
.
.
Atramentous  
Abomination
 
Perspiring
In addictive
Evaporated
Rain
.
.
.
Always
Showered in
.
.
.
Nostalgic
Anxiety
 
Utterly
Submerged
.
.
.
And
Asphyxiated
.
.
.
Only
Monochromatic
 
Like an
Elaborate symphony
Of a
Victimized phantom
 
Requital
Like a
Harmonized
Serpentine
 
Is it
Calamitous
.
.
.
Or
Maybe just
Ruined
 
Will I  
Inhale
Endearing opus
.
.
.
Just as
Sulfurous
As
Atrocious
As
Toxic endowment
 
A  
Wanton caress
A
Euphoria
Inside
An  
Eerie asylum
 
Vapid fatigue
Like
Resentful ecstasy
My
Crude awakening
Is a
Siesta
In a
Nightmare
 
A  
Vortex that's
Bleeding desire
And
Deception
Just like
Pernicious wicketry
 
Causing
Mental supernovas
.
.
.
Jaded
Clarity
.
.
.
Unorthodoxed
Musing
 
My
.
.
.
Smitten Serenity
 
My
.
.
.
Fake tranquility
 
So is the
Cavorting
Artist
In my
Required
Destruction
.
.
.
So is the
Melodic
Art of
Mesmerizing
Smoke
And  
Dreaded
Self-reflection