Test Of My Bones - Poem by Ebi Robert
Aye, six bags of carsals dwell amid sands.
Amid soil, pairs of soil and carpets beneath.
Still, full lying, but then not drunk of sleep.
Where thy debate in thine words
Govern a brazen in mine government of pads.
If thou doubt, solve and serve this salvation.
And thou won, win mine, respect and servitute.
Though not a minute less but an hour full.
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