Elevate me, bring me to a separated plane,

That would culminate my thoughts from somewhere between spiritual and deranged.

But ok, debunk yourself from stable,

From making magic between the tragic epiphanies; reversed serendipity to cradle.

This traffic of ideas tesselate the snake train,

Elaborated in definitions of tapestry and fake names.

Wallflower, with no protest to bonemeal,

Kaleidoscope of diets from eggshells and chlorophyll.

Hmmm, this brain food's a drug inducing misdirection, that holds no compass but somehow still sheens a cruel reflection.

Of course, consolidated losses, juxtapose the crosses,

Sway the form of faith to a diluted array of traits. +

And when the gullets a game for gross concoctions,

It's obvious isolation and failure seem the only options.

But anyway, with a sober mind still intact,

I could follow lines of letters from loosely to exact.

Clearly there is no sure thing, especially when the puppet contorts to the willful rhythm pulling at his own strings.

Look how far we've come, from willing to unable, that would shatter any semblance of cards still on the table.