Memoric Findings
I'm alone again oddly I'm not lonely
French guards beckons my thoughts
while British chemist crave my mind
creating formula's mastering tampering
with inner most thought's I suppose
I hear folks chattering a quaint theory
a carney lure of tyrants and folklore
balanced between a quiet energy
nestled so beneath a poet's memoric form
a certain dialog so faint and distant
capturing me in the sheer
rapture of going mad again
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