Young Writers Society

Gum-filled streets plagued the highway

A man's forlorn expression, how he cries

"The end is nigh; let's be high"

Chemists declared 420 is a mystical affair

Naturally must be exorcised

Beware, for His crystallised visions

Terrify even the most pernicious of hawks

And the glides of jubilance performed by the Biologist

Keen to prepare their petri slides

Surveying fragments of their teary

Lab-induced dreary mice

The Do-Goaders are outraged

How can one in such an age

Use test-subjects; what heathens

And did you forget to memorise the specification?

But the Scientists are not thy Saviour

Only work in their self-centred favours, They scoff

Divinity and Charismatic experiences

Likely derived, or dwelt hand-in-hand

Narcotic derisions; taste the bland sweetness

The kaleidoscopic gluttonousness

The Scientists searching for a much-needed antidote

Succulent potency, how fortunate

And of course, the Beliebters never did anything worthwhile

Never any penetrating, other-worldly solace

The solar eclipse seems astounding to the Collective

Now that it has been directly revealed

Sheep have mixed feelings about the herd

Some decree "absurd, go be a nerd"

Led by those foolish, egotistical Serjeants

Alas, Psychology and Decadence collaborate 

Perpetuating these adventurous tides

'til it kicks the posteriors sky-high

The poor are poorer; oh, my deer

And society ever more societalier

Just like the pristine Pier complimenting the sanguine seaside

Soaked with those who tied the noose

For they feared the Mooses would escape their solitary confinement

And all hell would break loose?

Were all the Ancestors

Mere celestial junkies?

Their ideas as aligned as the Black Stars

Literature, knowledge, Their beloved Science

Give the credit to thy defiant Degenerates

Philosophical transactions 

Unacceptable in the Commons

Serpents are the enemy of the Zealots

Naturally melted into the raciest of slime

Forever, all eternity, Auf Wiedersehen!

Though their Then whispers

Evoke the seductive nature

Of Homo Erectus

Not so far-fetched

Muses the eccentric man

Sitting with a little Lamb

Up on the Moon

Or Mars, Venus, the Mightiest Black Star

Wishing to descend upon thou Internet egos

Greet us soon with Universe-Truth

Though first, we need Your help

We must depart from Terra, our Home

For we destroyed her Motherland

As if she were another renewable Messiah

Ever since we were anticipated eons ago

We will advance into the Forgotten Region

Of Neva, the Last Hope

And meet Alien Z.O

We have come from afar

And it is time to say adieu

To atone for our forth-coming sins

We have sent a mini Ewe as a sacrifice

One last 'news'; it can only be

The Meta physicists and the Other Scientists

Who can begin this race

But to finish

Let the morbidly fearful Beliebters play

For whom else

Can summon the will and persuasion

To continue this tenacious drill?