Malefic Condescension: Wrought by You II
 
Drawing worthless diction as fire, Unqualified lucid pictures of muted clouds entitled hope, Inaudibly described via a depravity of discord, A torrential malady choir of misshapen atonement deficit cast foreseen just libel out angels, Whose eyes re filled with numb denouncement matriarchal Lilith established garden of misery over marionette's adorned with the purposeful threat of silence augmented by a sandcastle of memory shrapnel ache flames! Casting deviant ghostly tyrannically wounded crowns as a trick corner pocket adage of coins, Minted souls caste in an unholy cursed bargain of karma's fallen god betting delicate righteous amputated feeding gold hand, Derelictly pariah held over the mistakes made by poets, Though the mistakes haven't graft their souls by the same diction seed wrought of stagnant prose infested with the algorithms of passionate fire! In earnest anticipation of,
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      Maybe if I played the game better... I'd be more likeable...
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