A query pondering the upper hand theory

Leary of the conscious efforts of adolescent jesters

Conjectures in my statements elude me to the product’s placement of why, who, where, and how all that is has come and is gone now, around the plague of disarray to my dismay i find myself asleep in daze, craze from this nightmare, away from the chains that hold me so close to you undue, subdue the thought process and release and compete for a cease fire, dire to wake up and sleep again, begin and end, pause and bend for the contractions of these fractions of cataclysmic atoms forcing the pulse of energy through my body, somebody please tell me the convoluted truth of man, the savior of the damned, the soul with hole in the shoe of the earth that gave birth to me.

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