Not a chunk to your exclusive puzzle
Not a drizzle to your abstract mist
Not a twig to your intimate shrubs
He acquires his own radical
The prime exploration within his inhales
Echoing his optimal desire
No need for a burying wrap secreting the smiles
No need for a refuge to armour the elated yield
He ain’t like you, drawing the bet for your own soul
He ain’t like you, gambling the only delight
No alarm for the societal custody and honours
Like the utmost toddler, he circles his own watch
striking the flashes of each tick
Not wandering around the extra twinkles
He understands the degrees of his own circle
Entity I grasp from,
This is the innocence of the realm’s demands
This is the autonomy of the zillion smiles
Minimal animations and illusions of their own,
Far from the devastated societal illusions
darkened from the noxious synthetic illuminations
A virtuous fortune he beholds,
The same devastation shoves him with the absurd humour
The same noxiousness thrusts him to the unreal fallen
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