Something in the way (Periphery)

It began with the brittle brick of weetabix

And half a cold coffee.

Only the end.

The new idea squats

At the precipice 

Forever

At a glimpse 

At the periphery

A mocking clown 

Under the glass ceiling of a white chamber

Light cascades on a white visage

And a red cackle.

The cacophony of conscious

Between mesmerising messes

And mesmerising meshes

Pull away

And become 

Increasingly tangled

And agglomerated .

Futility to a intertwined interplay

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