Word🥗salad

1 month ago
11

DüKRüE "Duck-Crew" - Word🥗salad

Yo, you ask me what’s real, but I’m swervin’, you feel?
Let me break it down, it’s deep, intricate, surreal.
Complexities, they stack, I react with tact, intact,
But in fact, it’s all abstract, no need to interact.

Well, the fundamental paradigm's in flux, you see,
It’s a juxtaposition of epiphany, no clarity.
We’re synergizin’ the implications, causations blend,
Hypothetically we elevate, but where does it end?

Philosophical augmentation with rhetorical dimension,
It’s a fractional intervention in perpetual ascension.
You inquire, but I’m wired to expand your desire,
With syllables that spiral like smoke from a fire.

It’s the synthesis of cognizance, visceral and rife,
The convoluted composition of the intricate life.
Inextricably linked to the concepts I expound,
With multiplicity of meaning so profound it confounds.

Yeah, I'm dodgin’ the question, no need for confessions,
A salad of words in impressive progression.
It sounds like I’m sayin’ somethin’ mighty and true,
But in reality, it's absolutely nothing to you.
Doin' mental gymnastics, speakin' the miracles,
Holdin’ you captive while I continue in circles.

It’s a lexical manifestation of cognitive iterations,
Each syllabic fluctuation fuels further contemplation.
Consider the perpendicularity of dualistic intuition,
You request the truth, but all I give’s composition.

See, the epitome of symmetry resides in complexity,
Where the trajectory of thought becomes perplexity.
It’s a labyrinthine matrix of speculative abstraction,
A myriad of impressions with no actual traction.

Perpetual perpetuation of verbose liberation,
Articulation of nothing through profound presentation.
You ask for the facts, but what I lack in direction,
I make up with infinite layers of vague recollection.

Yeah, I'm dodgin’ the question, no need for confessions,
A salad of words in impressive progression.
It sounds like I’m sayin’ somethin’ mighty and true,
But in reality, it's absolutely nothing to you.
Doin' mental gymnastics, speakin' the miracles,
Holdin’ you captive while I continue in circles.

Well, it's an existential dichotomy of perpetual veracity,
Where the systematic illusion’s enhanced by elasticity.
It’s the methodical momentum of metaphysical motion,
A cycle of sound without true devotion.

You wanted an answer? I gave you a dream,
A picturesque portrayal that’s never what it seems.
The intricacies of linguistics wrapped in mystique,
A linguistic labyrinth where the truth’s obsolete.

So you keep askin', I keep dodgin', no need to slow,
I’ll keep tossin' out syllables, watch how they flow.
With a flair for the complex, a knack for the vague,
I’ll keep spinnin’ these words till they all start to fade.

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