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A weapon of mass destruction, this mind Finds reduction's evil neccessary Enough to deliver light to the blind, Thus making destruction's mess less scary. My mind's destruction is mushroom clouded! Doubt it and sign your own warrant for death, As bodies continue to be shrouded By decisions that were bad for their health. An old child of the atom's intellect, Hiding amongst the less enlightened ones, Bound not to neglect, but to introspect The power in the powder of my guns; Power between my ears, not in my palms, Brings the storm before and after the calm.