Вoт тaк

The metaphors I write down keep you contemplating after hours like poetry written by great gods who mastered spitting powers./ If only Zeus had the same aim as me, then we wouldn’t have random thunderstorms out in the boonies./ Stuck in this contemplation, like being stuck in a sticky situation./ Hard to catch you with a lie detector/ because you’ve long ago perfected/ the art of lying, and got some fireproof pants. or is it sighing/ after each battle, the grandiose debacle./ How bout reading taming of the shrew, maybe then u see the plot of how the setup beat you./ I’m here to beseech you to peek through the eyes of the beholder or someone older who can appreciate the transcendent state that’s reached when clashing brains solicit information to add feasible substance to this primordial soup of English language degradation. To all go peace and salutation.

не сoвсем бaттле, ну лaднoб,

всем "piece"