We aspire toward inspiration, desire less contemplation and more exultation, deviate from sensation only long enough to expediate jubilation, and fixate on the icy invasion where education became a code word translating indoctrination.
Intoxicated generation, reliniquish fated ostentation!
I dare thee, foreswear these belated obfuscations!
Berate the inflation of our celebration. In fact, conflate all conflagration till the incineration is a heinous heresy of hades’ own hellish animation.
Let no tower stand demanding our humble congregation. Humiliate the machinations of one-sided debate and toxic communion’s irrigation. Every statement relates less to growth than deforestation.
The gardens of our minds, of our Mind however, are made for the beauty of creation as well as obliteration.
And let no man, woman, or child spend their wild years wanting for a world of more deviation.
In my dreams, memories, monsters, and institutions are the ones on their knees, while the least of these are applauded, awarded for their service with a standing ovation.
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