EGOS OF EIFFEL
I am in a constant state when I feel I am settling for less and,
The very other moment I feel I am getting what I don't deserve at best.
The Conscious experiences of my alientation and abandonment,
Made me have filth in the estate of my being.
Everyone tells me how awesome I write,
Though that doesn't make me feel that somehow,
The very other moment I feel I am getting what I don't deserve at best.
The Conscious experiences of my alientation and abandonment,
Made me have filth in the estate of my being.
Everyone tells me how awesome I write,
Though that doesn't make me feel that somehow,
terrifying to be born in bones of a bonafide,
Who looks like genius and is a vulnerable pile.
And that's the liability of living life,
That makes me feel the fractures of my finite
The fallacy of gradual gibberish and the hostility of abrupt gossips,
Comes to fuel my inspirational insights.
The vacuum I have lent from my valid vulnerability,
Made me bear the debt one pays to cerebration,
The calamity of my ill destined fate
Mocks the future of my creations
Everything is falling apart according to my story so far and so am I.
Few light years have passed,
but it looked like I lasted forever,
Creativity have caught me in a time capsule of a curse provoking me ,
On the illit affairs of an insolvent prototype.
And then people ask me what do I do to write this?
And all I do is curse myself for a decade,
And then I feel damned to be born in a century,
Where humans don't understand how alienated does it feel to be an anomaly.
There is a lot of captivation in calmness
And unnecessary procrastination in denial of your senses,
The men go pursuing women of every age in every age,
And then women commence eventually to comprehend.
That explicitism in Extirpation is gentle notion of a hasty being,
Men are kept in guilt and women are baffled with mistreats.
Apologies in play and reconciliations of nonsensical modesty,
But that's not the judgement of exceptions and procedures .
Either women compromise or rather get equality,
Though rare are the sights of genuine sincerity,
Negligence in fruits of offspring as procreation worsens the process of invincible modesty,
Who looks like genius and is a vulnerable pile.
And that's the liability of living life,
That makes me feel the fractures of my finite
The fallacy of gradual gibberish and the hostility of abrupt gossips,
Comes to fuel my inspirational insights.
The vacuum I have lent from my valid vulnerability,
Made me bear the debt one pays to cerebration,
The calamity of my ill destined fate
Mocks the future of my creations
Everything is falling apart according to my story so far and so am I.
Few light years have passed,
but it looked like I lasted forever,
Creativity have caught me in a time capsule of a curse provoking me ,
On the illit affairs of an insolvent prototype.
And then people ask me what do I do to write this?
And all I do is curse myself for a decade,
And then I feel damned to be born in a century,
Where humans don't understand how alienated does it feel to be an anomaly.
There is a lot of captivation in calmness
And unnecessary procrastination in denial of your senses,
The men go pursuing women of every age in every age,
And then women commence eventually to comprehend.
That explicitism in Extirpation is gentle notion of a hasty being,
Men are kept in guilt and women are baffled with mistreats.
Apologies in play and reconciliations of nonsensical modesty,
But that's not the judgement of exceptions and procedures .
Either women compromise or rather get equality,
Though rare are the sights of genuine sincerity,
Negligence in fruits of offspring as procreation worsens the process of invincible modesty,
Indifference bleeds in the skin of discreet stupidity.
Leeza
🔥🔥
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