An enigmatic apocalypse catches frightful sight with a maniacal night – sideswipes and winds right by

Her detrimental eyes for sentimental persuasion, just upside-down earmarked as sensationally sacrosanct and here we all start

To fall teary-eyed immediately right by our sullen n’ worn, oft-than-not abhorrently inexpressive waysight

He might just manage at gently turning the wholewideworldly endeavour upon its proactively estranged head – out of mind may as well be out of agonising sight … might just inevitably work itself out for the favourable better by

The knife/edge/ending.

These mad-hatters that minutely do mean to make it magnificently matter – who generously, both generally cannot but
Care – with their ‘other-brains’ soliloquy set to take us back again…

From the unthinkable brink of dilapidated despair – The world but

A gilded/gold/nut/shell.

Some see solution, whilst the rest of us see enigmatic pollution