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Fond Of It

Poetry By: Love Reaper
Poetry



Chemistry, the magnetic fields between two sources that scientists have yet to grasp....


Submitted:Aug 23, 2012    Reads: 2    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


Chemistry, the magnetic fields between two sources that scientists have yet to grasp.
The very concept of two forms of chemicals set to explode, instead, only to release a surging force of immaculate sense of being bewildered by the very study of nature.
The raw intensity, no man can deny or hide, but just lie in defeat or exhaust, running from the involuntary movement.
Running from the very mechanism that gave birth to life.
Silence yet drawn fonder, static builds its rampage as lightning enhances its remnants with sufficient electrons, heat.
But no two and two will do.
Only certain chemistry can be felt with only its matching companion and any outsider will cease to exist all feeling.
Only a certain pull can drift each code into its proper degree and its degree is simply, perfection.





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