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Rated: E · Poetry · Writing · #1773633
It is quite like a party in your pants.
In the arena of surreal solitude
peace will be found.

Cleanse the consciousness
of moral impurities.

Atone the inner sanctum
of one's mind.

When Time's cognitive gates
burst open
allow the flood
of insight
to cleanse your sins.

Carry away
the tarry naivety
of young ignorance
and fertilizing
the fresh sod
with righteous dogma.

As the mind lays open
receptive to all knowledge
shield it
from tainted ideas
of tyranny and prejudice.

When the crops
of enlightenment yield fruit.

Harvest the axiom
and let others rejoice.

Sow your seeds of wisdom
in barren fields.

Together we can feed the hungry.
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