“Yolo”, They said.

Pupils of guardians relinquish their steely pulsating hearts
Just for yellow purple coloured farts that chose to ignore
The lessons from the errors of those that had not learned, while
Praying for more, icily chose to withhold, playing their abhorrent
Games of give, and take, when love, simply, wasn’t enough,
They’d search for questionable tabs that led to rewards in sweetnesses
Where answers lay dormant in the emergence of golden lemon trees,
While covertly submerged under cool waters inside man made caves,
Spaces, filled with haloed iris growths, again and again, mocking,
With all of their pretenses in self-reliances, missing everything.

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Reach

Roaming purple coloured e-bots and amazons
Surrender their arms just to gain alms
To feed weaknesses in gaggles of wildebeests
Where misguided stratagems once
Fell through gaping orifices, surrounded by cloves,
When petulant bonobos, bespattered
By mud from marshes refused, in their
Whims and fancy of the novel, or chose not
To disclose the imperative information
‘Bout this genesis, for they had been salved
By way of the repleted, forgoing salvations
That could have happened
Some millennia ago.

Did That Mean

Coarse plum blossoms would gracefully
Float above slithering rivers flowing within
Ravines, cores opening to leveled coastlines
Bailing out from the unforgiving time that
Seldom meant always in discordances;
Carved messages in mirrored instances.

Cases

Specs in eon increments
Of time looped discoveries
Fractalized photonic frequencies
Traveling through spacious spaces in specialities
When gaseous orbs of ionized plasmas
Converged, likened to alignments of connected
Dots, and lined up within this senselessnesses.

So Afraid

Curios of blue marbled viridian balls encasing
Bands of cretans, crept, evidently, unable to beget
Their minimalistic courage to face their problems,
Through hardly thought out imaginations,
Couldn’t hear or ascertain idioms, and
Tocked off of traces of tilted walls that gave,
Shut up and came per plasticy screens;
Falling in love wantonly, in quaking eruptions.

Those Thoughts

Social pathways in aster visualisations
Lighting up portrayals of sceneries
With various scenic things display,
Palpable seasons on even horizons that
Insouciantly fell to the immediate foray
In this learnt psycho space,
Where devalued philophasters
Wondered how
Little could ever be
Too much.

Than

Determined determinists irresponsibly utilise
Deterministic counting systems, far too
Deeply inside flickering digitised states
Stating that, “We could drop these
Striated golden apples there,
Where we were yesterday.”, with
Their crestfallen countenances
Standing above the place
Where golden apples fell.