Hard to see

Its quite crazy how ive got no way to see, into the opening of the closing of the sea.
Its way too silently bleak, kind of weakly and hard to be peeling,but this is my decree:
I wish that what i said could be easily seen, teasing thee especially, with a divine weaponry.
That severed the' top of your brain unfortunately; then delivered it as a specimen to my laboratory.
Every allegory story that i write ends up being gory, lends itself up to being boring but eventually alluring.
Deploying scientific, prolific fiery dosages and homages into your nostrils and getting stuck to your larynx like a tent or a den. My origins are unfounded but get compounded, my thoughts are powerful but kind of non useful and thin
to the average person. I use my ionized, weaponized, pen of overintellectualization, its vocatin a row of latent, patent words like a naked clone gettin idolized on a paintin and being watched by millions of eyes full of sin.
It writes letters and adds consonants, verbs, vowels and ink blots like concreting sinking pots of concrete blocks that top every writers style, whether its weak, cold or if its hot or not, while drinking a Heineken sleet shot.
But im no alcoholic, I just use science and use a lot of logic, the logician of metaphors deeper than your core, prolific in plotting the next rhyme scheme, in my grand scheme of things, pour out my intellect, board it then store it and then rethink it like boardin the board of thought, even when things are gettin borin, but i find a way to adore what i write anyways. Soarin at the highest level, compartmentalized in every single sensationalized section, perplexin and reinfectin  the infective invective particularized message.
Passin into my head the sedatives, let um in, my head says as i set um in like leverage.
I think id better get moving on to the next line, before my mind loses the next lesson.
But thats it for now, until we move forwardly into the next chapter of wisdom into the next section.