I am debauched by immanent darkness,
no credo, no godless incense leads me.
Through these foibles, cognitive ecstasy,
I thunder strike at Old nick's haughtiness.
...
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A soft hearted poetic start. You may like to read my ars poetica named as (Poetic Sense-1) Thanks
cleverly plotted and conspicuously well written. thanks for sharing.