Circles of dirt and pollution around,
Silhouetted by filthiness of comrades around,
Each is sitting in there, devouring pan cakes,
A cake stuffed with bladder worms.
Their seems myriad of gobbled head,
Humping like Eichornia in the marshes,
And spreading the coats of miniature,
Unseen sticky leeches sucking their soul.
And swarps of beetles and musca
Sticking around, smell so pungent,
That even sulphide of hydrogens
Shaming under the garb of the mind.
Appearing, as it’s the reflection, the lights seems aghast,.
Because the beast lies, littering and casting and blowing the aurora of black tars, is still residing.
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Cast away, this,