Tales from the Robbed Graves

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Where art thou old chum?

Where dost ye' cometh with multitude abound?

Where dost thy prosperous mountain?

Reach our heaven's garden


As purpose no rhyme my heavy burden

heavenly angels woes have fallen

dost my grave plead of being woken

Heavy conscience once stolen


Where art thou old brother?

Where dost ye cometh with wit taller

Yonder echoes through thunder

Skulls hunged from boulders


The power you have is a flower

Ponder a meter, a parameter

Corrupting absolutely

E'er slowly


So where are the robbers

Who are the embalmers

Of freedom stricken people

Edgin'g for peaceful tremble

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