Gone girl : a girl always on the go

 Gone girl: a girl always on the go

The plethora of pigment have shattered to fuss over us,

The dichotomy of drastic devastation have taken so long to adjust.

The bilingual battle is left to be fought,

The juvenile jocularity js summoned to be soved.

My pens moves like the pages in your hand,

My specs spectacle the sources in the sun kissed sand.

My eyes blooms the unflattered feeling of the phenomenal feat,

And my heart dives deep to devote my destiny to this dilemmatic treat.

My aversion grows every single night,

As possession passed in her hands .

My hair are rugged to ruffle my baffled emotions,

To satire on my creations.

Live, languish, lust the liquor  of  love .

Sleep, sound, sing the song of saturn .

Turn , twist , troll the Twilight of trauma,

Gauge above the glint of the gone girl saga.

As simple as it looks,

As difficult as it feels.

As complex as that curse,

As curious as my castle.

Be a nice man or a nice woman,

They say, they preach.

But who dares to practice those Wrecked words ?

When the claps are even faintly heard.

Frozen lies should be felt enough ,

Broken heart, should be mended by us.

Vicious traps should be clattered by lurks,

But timeless Avenues should be shattered to shut.

 Purple rush prevails over the wall of wrecked,

Diaspora divinity fades to term every facade nacked .

The blue stone steals the hard posture of Raymond ,

But my heart still weeps the versatile gesture of tainted.

Rhyme the rhetoric  rumour of Riverdale ,

But don't rhyme too hard,

That the rhyme look like another cage.

Be free , be flattered, be the way,You always wanted to be,

Be misticle , like the hidden trauma to nights affectionate dream.

The scales of silcouth in summer,

Moves the bereaved bottom of buttoned base.

The charisma of cloistered can, can curl up the case of coherent collage, 

in every fatal phenomenon phase.

Just stay true to the trauma,

And picture me in the month of march .

Cause when April came recalling the antithesis,

The paradox of may work lurk all the biases.

Be the man or the woman,

Who do you wanna praise?

Rather than being the sophisticated Insane,

Statue of what your stupid society says.

As an apostrophe proves the value of vitals stage,

That suffer in the heated solemn race.

Of judgemental Jupiter craze,

And materialistic mercury maze.

The clown shouts,

 when the beggar breaks the boycotted bait.

As the man squeezes the oranges ,

To taste the honey of what the golden ferry embrace.

Oxymoron of oxygen encounteres the optimistic Eureka of euphoric praise,

When the dead dies to be alive and the survivor survive to die.

A girl who have handled all her  situations,

And aced every fucking thing to attain fame from her fictionary try.

Why 29 th December is the most cursed date evermade?

No, not because he was born at that date,

Just because it has some obnoxious omen owned Within it.

Counting to twenty nine, making it evenly odd,but still one day he would even die.

Whatever, who knows what?

I just know that, that.

A girl who is always on the go,

Is on her journey to never stop for anyone, anyway, although.

Leeza