The Great ColdWho will plunge a tree should grow it tallest
and find ill winds render the height smallest It fails eyes that the slight lives wrestle man and hold fast all the while gracing their plan The giant enthrals and fights vicious hearts where sway-craving demi-beings fling darts This scares me into which I seek to breathe I knew not how else I should bear or seethe My breath, the fell pneumonia and this draft I know not whose fight will last grasp a haft Greatest heights sag; the sturdiest collapse This is the spirit with which days now lapse I am not made of brass which does not rust Hence, I will trail our twin hearts to the dust My mind lays no exact ear nor eye schooled I yet not smell when earth will rout, so ruled I should pay my art that does thirst for juice God most high, Lord of all crafts, do me use My mind may, past my tongue, tell far fluent but I shall heed that my thoughts not truant This garland virus does no fair thought help but my pen wears no eyes nor knows a kelp They that cut a yam when in haste they dug would slow to unearth the tail earth did hug Hot soup should be licked around its edges To essay straight, this task, my pen pledges Here is a tale of lives, cats and winged mice; how man fronts their rebellion and the price The winged mice click, but disrupt silly ears They blind easy eyes and sink them in tears Those dark-sky beasts and the sinister cats trick the judgement of men who repel gnats I know not what snake is young in the teeth nor what centipede yet breathes in a sheath How water made past the pumpkin's handle my slight mind probes with a lighted candle The arrow cast upwards cannot sleep there One's shadow will bear one till one's last lair The brow of the sky lifts in grief well etched because man has harvested the far-fetched Roused of the East, arresting past the West, an eastern cold gusts and distracts our rest It creeps through the air, behind the senses and without limbs, strikes against defences The eye of the sky is numb, and lives freeze but sin to hurt, cough up sputum or sneeze Grieved rest the diseased by a starved virus An ill which, of else lives, breathes desirous A close trade of presence fashions a bridge through which nasal and oral droplets ridge Stray droplets perch on the skins of objects to which, by a loose hand, the face subjects A fortnight next will have brought the result Three days on the score finds its peak exult The score, its hunger for roaming may pass It still does proofs in the non-scored amass Six-day old symptoms do the ill ached pluck In six weeks, all jinxed cases are stiff-struck Man is stuck in cobwebs and in vain stalled This is a fright with which we are enthralled If the mushroom lives a slave to the ground, it sprouts from the waist of a stem aground The sun has failed to awake from his house to cleanse this epoch of the brooding louse This age is such dressed in just made attire Our thanks meet China who did all conspire May we summon the Asian for handshakes Laud the omnivores for a world that quakes They well munched this epoch into a cough such that man serves to a microbe a trough It sugars the mouth that pains the buttocks Men with puffy eyes may let their stomachs Cure seekers who processed bat carcasses may see that their toil, for praise, canvasses The human crown is bowed and in our eyes Man bows and brooks a fall, and nature rise Who turned a palm frond and saw a serpent would place it back or spurn and not repent The two-legged featherless animal swerves and keeps along, as he observes his nerves But some singular hearts best savour fright Certain full fledged ears position word-tight Now, devouring meat-eaters who crunch all exalt between neighbours a chest-high wall The spirit of this age bears a strange breath He gives out ill and strikes a dance of death Students of life trace this terror to schemes Finders, poets and seers bear fresh themes It finds my head with threnodies consumed and inks my nib with a verse of the doomed I should not mouth a dirge, or spend my nib but my fingers it has thwacked with a squib In a cold sweat, they scratch for a keyboard to word pieces of my mind made road-ward These troubled shreds venture on a journey to seek them that keep up with this tourney My twin hearts and I heed these tragic bells fetch our art of letters more leaves of spells By way of faces - minds with earth acquaint If not the mouth, the heart would retire faint All minds still store all that did us hoodwink My heart does my pen plugged into him, ink When the months of our year arose in pride, the twenty-fifth of the second moon sighed She had divined the kite to sweep our clime which would snake in, clearly amid her time We had kept Christmas and its year's plenty and the new year: two thousand and twenty We had kept the year of more smiles on lips when vile lives from behind made to eclipse This plague would not swoosh past Nigeria was he schooled we trounce harsh bacteria The fifty-eighth dawn of the year woke grief Our minds watched it not intrude like a thief What our Italian guest much thrived to host, had flown past his seat shooting outermost Augury students would astray have begged that visitors be, straight on the way, pegged Foul news is brought by March the eleventh that, in thirteen years, men bear the seventh Keep this threatening rainstorm from falling Heavens, if you bear, save us from squalling The rise of a plague says the all-health desk Breeds of this age tell new to the grotesque Marked an open air walker none should join our fright asks each to cast within, a groyne This strain only caught life and has no balm As we seek for a way, he wreaks more harm Care givers bear clues from sick old epochs Each day holds newer bits of the health box Each day shows us her safest roads to take Lives choke; and the enemy our flaws make We never did bear this nor were we maimed but spy this affliction straight at man aimed I feel it could expend some time and means So, my blank leaf covets to wear the scenes I board a train whose stop men do not bode I might quite soon alight for some else road Either way, I will have filled these live blanks if the scythe bearer not plays her fell pranks Should the grim reaper betide without signs to the wind, rains or fire might my lone lines All lines would bury earth, water and clouds A view of which would win me jolly shrouds Most hearts lodge homelike for a pandemic The theft of breath, mid most, tells endemic While some eyes fail its life or mien, or both, the science of weighing declares its growth How we did earn the baneful broom, we ask Our heads covered with loads it will yet task We wrench into our skins bearing our angst and nurturing that not to our roots chanced God cheats not, we hold, so ills do us wreck The white who lie in means may do it check To lay on the first things our hands just itch That is more covid, or our worlds we switch Our skins wear the heart of the better made and the yet-to-fall states' pride so conveyed One may stitch shut the eyelids of the hawk that flies with its wings astride a weak flock The mortal shadow pulls all that keep close Quick legs set out on a move, fleeing throes The great stream would not drown anybody with whose legs it not met, and rest shoddy State leads tell: a lockdown for a few weeks and we see one which of no set end speaks Shutting the earth from its roof is so carved during which the sly intruder dwells starved Our eyes and hearts sit up to what happens Dim they feel but their cold rims it sharpens We concede to feel the turning globe stilled Thus, do a lifeless and tiresome world build Cities are locked up and fretful legs banned Who makes home late is left out of the land How early, price growth and famine is smelt Blows of panic-shopping are to stores dealt Who saw gates and walls even to be locked here ply basics in their houses well stocked Migrants stuck away, more seclusion baths As if casting stones, roving feet seize paths Noted sights bed ugly that sold guidebooks Terminals that fed passports bear dry looks In order that one will preserve one's phlegm field affairs divorce scenes wedded to them Now breathe daily schemes, to the air, given No route lies, through which traffic is driven Yet-living trades do breaths of else air catch Schoolmates and worshippers on air attach Known amusement houses, to the air, move Distant souls let their bonds, on air, improve Picked minds that do the art in the air grasp comprise thin hands who cannot do it clasp Hands that ate together now wave goodbye We are snatched by a break without the sky Are these Adam's first days when man idled and reaped the earth, in freedom unbridled? Noses grudged the gas of life stick farthest but do warhorses' breasts' armours harvest Who taught their child: genitals are covered felt that their mind still on the nose hovered Every hand bears Ignaz Semmelweis' words Bathing a falling stream or glove, each girds China smears his hands; ours swim a lather He wears dread; we shoo our fellows, rather While he defiles gases which gird the globe, all else do their procedures for health probe As they infect their houses and compounds all elsewhere do surface cleaning, in rounds Their diets walk their pores as some poison while we avoid others whose skins moisten A kung fu scheme though mimes an animal crafts health and judgement at the maximal The world wall but rock knows an ill crevice Man pulls an abrupt discharge from service Like some regulus prompt to wed with gold hostile states quicken to build a stronghold Eyes wear the teeth of combs on the ill cast weighing its here and there, future and past Hours erase their visages; days, their miens Our souls evade us, scratching for vaccines Those that live as one grab the art of health Nothing outweighs staying alive; not wealth The clock says life; no ambitions nor trades Who can breathe has other lovely cascades A young palm frond, still to unwrap, shrivels but fails the blind eyes if the grieved snivels Children are like lonely flowers wind-tossed So mild and lost, it soon does them exhaust Who took the winged train to foreign clinics now relent on some field healthcare picnics The richest and their bronze monies sunder They freeze at this monstrous virus-wonder The moneyed dispense vast copper monies to charm fortune, and assume kind bunnies The refuges of abodes, the chiefs of realms, grind molars jointly while fright overwhelms Our forerunners who merely lose their mirth summon a long-haired star to kiss the earth Our youth may be just while they hold aloud that this bane seeks but the richly endowed The wealthy return home from far countries Their companions at most kiss their entries The rich traverse through soils of this covid They are kept, and the rest shooed like Ovid The wealthy and ailling are the most-served where others inflicted stay back self-nerved Well, downcast souls look up to the steeple sects, creeds and classes become a people Heads sit else ways to lead the eyes abroad How our visions turn revised casts us awed This age gives us a new hunch of our breed Now, strangers to our clout tenant our heed Our care-givers and corps take up the cross All else stretch out in their beds like a moss Now breathes the chief strife of the century when most hearts not catch its worst injury The front line cry well seized by our fighters Our healthcare leads rouse the field igniters Mouths sing praises of the victors war-kept Minds greet offers of their leisures ill swept Man has so not vanquished Covid-nineteen but the triumph woos his mind and as keen A clash of bullets, and blades would quaver Ours foils wide eyes but not meets a waiver The brave strike their way to an other world They make to a hell to foil the source furled Who invades Satan's land must do else ripe You not try his seat nor from a length snipe They who do find not home in their number They all may submit to the strange slumber Bright news greets home, even if ill luck ails A barred voice tries to ring of hope and fails We bath under droplets yowling from eaves and gulp drips of water bawling from leaves Forty days have found our sit-at-home push Meanwhile, its extension staged an ambush Who earned every day are seized in the toils They fall ill, whose lips this dry spell not oils Caught in the snake-coil wheel of a cyclone, into the soil man's forked roots scurry sown We can brace ourselves like algae in chains, to wreck this plague, or honour our remains Our age lays sages composed as the young who are eyes over their soils like the tongue The tongue is one deft dweller of the mouth It sways the realm from its west to its south Marking the nooks of all that lurk and prowl, it spreads about the walls as though an owl Our fathers bore dusky days; these are ours All hands bind to reclaim the free lost hours Their god does fell them where anyone falls The rest limp till their last gasps and pitfalls There lie the feet of whom the earth chases One who fights with oneself nothing graces The distance mid thumb and the fifth finger does prompt their eyes on each other linger Most legs sent indoors do not bear the trait, while they simulate the crab's sideward gait We quite veer from our own selves horrified playing the snail's shell turned half to a side This home confinement lives with a manual To sleep, dine, bath, and again reads factual A poor man's day unfurls late; grief eats him May no one ask others what lake they swim A lifetime swept by techniques and science Warfield lovers quake in home convenience Men pushed animals to brawl in deep holes Now, animals pull men's fight for their souls Flag-wavers who bore fiery guns and knives cannot sit behind doors and keep their lives Man may conceive how animals judge zoos A caged fine-limbed creature lives an abuse I have, all through my life, itched to lie down but on this short-stay prison I should frown Lives we miss, we know you too do us miss Hope leads us towards the path to our bliss If these days pass and you not bear us next do not thus hold that our love too fell hexed We strain past our roles for the least to give but all eyes are fought over which souls live Many are crushed and many grown ill numb Some lose their way; on a newer path, some These are days set to lash man as they look My bones say torn apart; my limbs, ill-shook Scratching plagues him a lot that lice attack He not tells when he does on his poo snack Our breeding lockdown has a new daughter Who not saw this plunge in earth and water Dwellers across oceans, to hold home, earn Our very statesmen do our hurt pleas spurn Relief grants from larger hands make fables While in fact food and meat blind our tables Most men tell not else ways to fetch money They live on the past that came most sunny These are no fertile times to grow business, but hunger torments more than unwellness The skin wears no prickles and rests frozen When itching grows hard, it greets the open Who heeds the fear beyond walls no longer, has been kindled and chased out by hunger Their skins lie in the pupil's gray-green haze of which etch hunger-struck veins in a daze The thumb snaps the finger and stirs a clap Able hands fill sunk cheeks that itches slap Who break their arms as the fight escalates carry who break their legs, with sturdy gaits Lordly lenders and barefaced beggars swell Limbs in fetters still grope for ways to dwell Here, some minds are fired for some genius Some else, at hatching ills, swing ingenious He in jail starves; the starved has an ill mind Thus, the dark-minded arm against the kind Kitchens bear news of their ill-emptied pots Days know grocers recording robbers' plots In the sun, the land that one grows of crops is that which, below rafters, takes raindrops One works by lamplight; the daylight is shut Across the unpeopled spheres, nature strut Many souls are swept out by this vile dance It smoothly strips this time of its substance Few victims and deaths our registers quote Many minds rot that these records not note The rich knows none to bear his ill or doom, nor contracts the dead to possess his tomb No soul will rest a heap of numb pale bones behind eyes that had him thrive over stones Man's hearing dies last; an artist's hands do If the last couplet of this draft pulls through A deinked pen is first mourned by his drafts Of the notes of his aired works he yet crafts This is one death-of-cold with wings so rife: A grim stroke that marks a cold break in life Adroit to wreak earth-wide havoc, and brisk, it is one fierce stream encircling earth's disc Snared souls sing the song of a dying swan These preys felt to die soon admit foregone Seven million lives are caught in six months Three and a half million thwart met affronts When almost half a million repose trounced time will rate the Pestilence far pronounced This year of death is still faced within doors It rivets prickles to hearths for some chores While itchiness is employed in most homes one is shorn of the ease at which life foams One may wish for one's portion in the street where this aerobe or our men-at-arms greet Men live tricky times fraught with dilemmas You rig truths, Wuhan ill, and numb lemmas Stripped rough-edged leaves of a dandelion have you been loaned some teeth by a lion? Ought the spike of justice to thrust our legs or hunger fill our pots, sketching our dregs? Something another way does my rest touch No prickle did thus well on my peace clutch A child soothes, under the sky grown angry: Mother, please bawl not; I weigh not hungry We eat phlegm to soften the pangs of thirst Who has a meal gulped drums of water first One hungers in one's mouth, not one's belly You bear ill-timed meals and freeze like jelly Hunger ails others' bellies, not their mouths You tire of eating if your tongue has doubts A nursed baby begins each day with brunch when its mother seldom has nuts to munch This sad child's next and last meal is lunner: lunch and dinner matched for a post-runner Beneath fruit trees, its father gobbles meals when the itches in the house seek his heels Jackie Chan’s ‘Snake in the Eagle’s Shadow’ Your snake fists and cat claws, by air, tiptoe It is fell how new bloods bear their last rites but your flinty forte lifts my mind to heights Like those unbowed Ronaldinho's ball ploys you invade, destroy and advance with poise These days give to the eyes of the punsters Our grief turns joyous, keeping our funsters Plenty of sauce with which we lick our biles does, now evil ruins men, concoct our wiles Some germs, long sent into an endless gulf, rise, having spied their breed do men engulf There is no temple where man flees seizure The seized, no priest frees, yet at his leisure Each traced case bears Ibn Sina's health jail Our other selves, here ostracized, grow pale Avicenna's health jail clutched the diseased Our ‘Forties’ is into fourteen days squeezed Cases are lured to the scythe bearer's court Fortunates buy the judge; the rest fall short Who may fare, reap therapies for symptoms and yet exploit assumed breathing systems Who not people the care jail loll homewards and ease their breaths or let the fell records Who hold up not return in their best shapes Who fall do straight into the well that gapes The routed lie lost for their heads and limbs to adapt to a truck which with deaths brims When, daily, thousands of men loll perished truckloads fill pits, away, by none cherished Corpses are plied along trails morn till dusk, when none is better honoured as their husk The vanquished are robbed of fair requiems Who cease home may keep for millenniums The Occidental say less schooled than held The United States, the great height, is felled The heap of sand a stroke of her spade lifts is seen while under her watch our sail drifts Worlds the sculpture of freedom enlightens will see how her defied torchlight heightens State firsts tear up, on clear and else efforts The Latin and German tribes lose their forts The well-smashed Brazil, Britain and Russia do no grace into their wrecked hearts usher Shock runs through South Africa and Egypt Northern African states confess ill-stripped With doubts and each barely about a slump Kano's, Abuja's and Lagos' strengths thump The Pestilence is once more for lives ticked The Great Depression comes soon to afflict World economies, like the shameplant, bow The bone-dry soil, the less fortunate plough Humankind tires out like a bough-torn trunk Our great voyage, thus sailed amiss, is sunk It strikes worse in our land with just leaders Men limp like birds fleeing coops for cedars Swooshed past us has our Italian life-guard He played a task for solely which he starred Such flu which widely grips in colder climes looks of man, but a Chinese stem so climbs A child grown ill for work, wakes fit to brawl Fire not keeps who woke it nor heeds a wall Staunch to walk the else flesh to the bizarre these were legs smelt to take the world afar Eyes can grasp the rise and fall of each foot and how each of their legs, to stretch, is put The Asian wage and win the third world war The new and else old nations blaze but roar The snake that not swallows its companion maybe not gets fat but grows some canyon They still give a chase like the grudging flea that gashed their neighbour with a machete Hit are wiener dogs that work up no sweats, fetched to dig the badgers out of their setts Some Chinese hunt sway over their fiefdom Such faceless names well defy our freedom The kite can fly up; its shadow, down, wings Arms not grow folded when ill at man flings China could, behind shut doors, have a trick This would not earn us the hungered magic A ewe that lusts for horns may weigh a ram She may scratch well if she has still to lamb God gifts us faces and tongues, all may see Life is His breathed words; cognates are we Men could in their unique miens and voices reap better than nursing some sole choices The fruits of our deeds wait no split second Everything spins upside down as beckoned Legs keep roaming about on the same spot I tell not our left from our right, thus fraught The daylight grows dim like a waning moon pulling from the nooks of our days, so soon The past that spoke well of today masks up The foretold wears the slips mid lip and cup Our minds and work, with earth, did interact Here, our feet kick against stones on a tract False schools on air, of the spiteful ill, teach Minds invent clues; fishers of regard preach Hours hatch winged reports; anxieties reign Prophets show us Jesus Christ come again A wartime appears worse and has ways out but on each of these days more evils sprout A side could flex muscles and grab the field but we lose the strength to exploit and yield Fires of war could be put out by neighbours but no creatures else can boost our labours The bird flight's eyes of hints spy not ahead None can tell the lot of this ruin widespread All hold that hope-filled hunger does not kill Instead, well close makes death, the killer ill So smoothly could this come, but I feel glad I swear an oath which in hearts will tell mad Past my days, my return will not, here, make if after deaths, souls for else times do wake Life has never had dress such poor and dull I should fall here; still, death will all men hull Breathing has, upon our lives, lost its charm Well, vanity still does our stored golds harm Our rulers look leapt for their common cloth sewn of far tales and transformed into froth Law enforcers launch their fame for assault and hope that these days not dash to a halt They are else harm past Wuhan pneumonia Well deemed fruitful, but hard like ammonia Our hearts cry to unknown ears borne away While we get no responses, our hopes stray Our still but troubled spirits, here chagrined, crush down and wear away and to the wind They may join the cloud of smoke up above If the clouds not do them down to us shove They could seek being to some lower home but you will, Almighty, not watch them roam God who bears the earth upon His shoulder grief, regrets and ruin, in our eyes, smoulder This bespeaks the bowing down of this age and could breed the tearing out of our page We pray for a rope thrown from outer space that would transport all out of this embrace In the wild fields of tomorrows cures fledge Each leg on this slick peak clings to a ledge A tree that cannot dance, the wind coaches All hearts grow to augment our approaches A meal burns me; my intestines lie bunched I rise to gape my mouth while it is munched Our nerve and foiled fear will not cut a germ At the winged data on cases, hearts squirm Man stomachs an ire that does him enslave We re-sit our hurt hearts to house the grave Our fathers' spirits are here with us, housed They bear our eyes even when we caroused All minds serve them kola nuts, with fervour The fruit which men and spirits both savour Wherever one lodges one mends one's roof No balm hunter will brook their hearth aloof Many minds still deem this covid some joke Some, that our clime merely does it provoke They bear no faults who score this ill unreal now a saviour from far skies does man heal Their eyes that thwart ours may be genuine while our leads fatten up and stay sanguine The fat ask the starved to bear their houses but the fat loll in streets where harm rouses Disease check bureaux do our concern lose Hearts not shake still at pieces of sad news Horror now withdraws its sway upon minds We make back slowly to our common kinds Most brows stand other proper life troubles for the mirth which under one's toil bubbles A foul flu has come and now with men lives It will fail or, God knows, leave when it gives When no tongue terms it nameless or novel who saw not, watch it here and there grovel From the edge of space other horrors spark On turns to reign upon breaths they embark Hopes did take no fewer while it all hatched We not deem, rather, attached nor detached If hands keep so fettered and shorn of work more troubles pile up, and for one's rest lurk Partial white men's and to this scourge akin some other flu lives that tries the black skin The black man forges for himself own tools but some sky-hue wearers attack as ghouls Such whitemen wish to ask ills to our guard They find the black soil best for a graveyard They see no vaccine in our leaves and roots that nurture pains in their eyes for our fruits For all who assume skin-first and vice-Gods the world will die and wait, against the odds You grudge the black soil all its herbal feats but let them on whose many a plague seats The skin who does itself the sky-light deem eludes earth painted of a black skin's gleam The black-skinned meet drug testing in vivo when they seem breaths not worth a relievo These days are here to let men who discern confirm more racist fell wills fume and burn Lessons behind lessons shadow each hour What has life fights to the morrow bent lour While a wraith, in a commune, stays so long elders lure it where behind eyes they throng Like asthma, dengue, Aids and else cancers you grace the bar mid man and his answers Wuhan pneumonia, you yearn to dwell large and sway over lands along which you barge So that your makers well conceive the huge your art, Frankenstein's virus, plays the luge A life from the shreds of the dead will surge while the author lays his balm for a scourge Within my thoughts' hearing I bear to speak These words do you, aural, or heavens seek Should the old and hoary-haired ill-treat you Bad is bad; steel your mind and irk them too When a baby crawls up and does you pinch, drop down, nip back, like the beak of a finch We flog a child that spilled the worthless oil not whom broke wind to gag men in turmoil By matching their strides, you fight warriors They should gamble that must rise glorious How banes have kept ailing earth from Asia The blameful should dance to their fantasia Our eyes can switch a more thorough study So the pure are not cast through the muddy World irokos seek China through tall courts Leading seats convene her, heeding reports Where ills befall and else ways bear legions the stiff-necked kicks on, raiding all regions Wuhan virus, where spirits bear weak joints, hires a compass and infests the four points Towards all lives the Wuhan harm is geared States who disavow its presence are feared We recline trapped, ill hit and grimly bruised Some guilt of man's perhaps is not excused I can hear, although the hell's bells may ring cherubs and seraphs, at heaven's gate, sing Any that falls, snow, sleet or hail, is stopped My eyes, some hearts will disclaim or adopt Yet, what rain on man are clouds' final spills that walk the way to earth from the sky-hills To weigh all we lose, hearts not say enough Untold say the souls sunk in this fell slough When our age not breaks into baseless pits, the moon will shine soon if this rain permits We will press our chests against each other soon while we will have cast out this bother Who must hold out must kindle a challenge Brows raised fearlessly will refuse to cringe As days come and go, our panic fall sapped Such starved fears by each day fail to adapt Views of unique faces gush for they should Man casts off his foreboding but falsehood The mortal will not kneel for dead concepts which lodge not abreast of earthly precepts Plans are awed and lifted how hearts kindle to shake off vain contents and less dwindle While it costs caution to claim our customs we head for our lost aims like lay phantoms Earth makes place to suit some other being Man moves to match since he is not fleeing When lives and this disease swap company we keep from harm which does accompany Well, dim but more form to fight they reflect all faces and miens not reveal how wrecked Paths are, by anxious legs again, massaged Again, they wear life and glow camouflaged Feet now go out again but here with modes I veil my sunk flesh in free coats from roads This captures not the case with the wealthy who widen doors to go from rooms, healthy While humans still in rank over earth mount their wands led on else planets deftly count Crises call but not from here do men sweep Pinches foil the brave and yet do them keep Our forefathers might have bent to a plague when they kept behind eyes easy but vague Man will his greatness his whole life secure No disease nor scourge will his reign ill lure It may wear quicker wings than the flu does but men rout measles which beyond it buzz Many creatures plot in their spectral worlds to wrest the sway which is the ultra-furled's Some quit all ploys and yield in fear of routs as your spirit ultra-furled, man, lures doubts More plights will tilt at your sceptre and orb but live God's breath which only you absorb The rare creature born of God's photograph should mimic God's grace as His divine half This single craft of God's resourceful hands the rate of beings born of words not stands Who alone says worth God's breath to exist merits more life to bathe some blissful mist They who when spoken to, do for life vouch will if spoken to, towards death thus slouch Beings that earned God's office and muscle, seize earth and dwellers, knowing no tussle He who on the Lord's last day of work came on the day of death shall last yield his name
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