Time’s cruel lessons
Her crude astuteness lessens
Whip as tutor
Skip as future
Hit, pass, passable suture
Irascible, they found my chances laughable
To a vaster future I cast my polluting lantern
And the illusion’s band snaps, revealing a chanceful cavernous.
The golden illusion of brass at first ravishes
But changes at blatancy’s range like the priestly staff
Snakespasming upon the flags of Pharaoh’s palaces.
Alchemisland 
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