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The Masters

To see the master grin is far too grim,
I see when he talks to the servant;
To see him regard the cushion is absurd,
For anyone retaliates and observes;
The reality of a day has arisen from splendor,
And its ranks are huge and multifarious.

I see the masters in their suit of armor,
Never is the word of a false knowledge spoken;
Towards the end of time the clothes are worn,

Then the shoes come secretly to blend;
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