Of Rantipoles and Quaintrelles

I've always tell myself that I'm too old for all these debauching and revelling in parties getting wasted all day. Instead, treating myself to wholesome brunches and meet ups with friends whom I had yet to meet in a while due to Tekong but here I am, doing exactly the same thing I did a few years back.

Koyaaniskotsi

Of wasted youths in sonic scapes
Who are we to appreciate
Distil the essence and fractionate
Can you smell that teen spirit?

In the effervescence
Exalted tendrils snaked
In a smooth ascent almost avarice
Until you reach apotheosis

It spills down your gut
And fill those empty chambers and atrias
In mystic swirls of chaos-order continuum
Pray that it won't clog space-time.