Feral mood swings give the elastic momentum to soar from the dark dredges,
As it was previously unthinkable.
From the glorious misanthropic lows, to a euphoric revelry or youth.

These golden days are replete with vicious change,
The growth plates of potential prosperity ease close with a snide unforgiving sentiment.
The bright orifices of the sky plunge into obscurity,
Only the imprints leave us dazzled, thinking the dream still holds an office.

But the endless chapters are truncated,
until the only thing left is the devil's ****, or his charity.
Bubbling youth to grim compliance.