The return of the master.
Sadly, it is not the master himself
It is the victim of the trade in the shelf.
The return of the master.
The man in black
Has a heart that's dark
To the race of the black.
The return of the master.
Gunless war to 'fashi' the evil of the master
Only for the warrior to turn the monster.
The return of the master.
The field dance
The sand prance,
Oh, the freedom return' to the slave'!
Hush! Presto, the prince kept them in the bitter cave.
The return of the master.
This master, unlike the first master
Laced with treachery that cluster.
Peace runs dry
Doom runs high.
The master with gift of the gab
Bitterness prevail
Way out, no avail.
The return of the master
The land dwells in the prison of its product
Awaiting the birth of new warrior with good
conduct
And will he ever ripe to hand the land the real
FREEDOM
from the master?
Categories:
gunless, beautiful
Form: Rhyme Royal
Sir –
We saw some lads matching
Free from their dungeon
Commandeered by a white-robed priest!
We saw them standing
By the rostrum of the Freedom Square;
Someone asked:
“Was there truly a freedom square?”
Someone replied:
“There was, there is, there is to be
A place where freedom smiles
At the people;
O! the gunless chaps got independence
In this hub of the nation’s epitome
Of scholarism,
Marbled under the fading sun.”
Now, Sir –
We heard the peals of the bells;
The representors made the call;
The lions came with their claws
And lionesses made their presence felt;
The forest was emptied:
She was ransacked to the full;
The rough beasts roamed a full noon!
In a wide silent forest of pantology;
Ah! no weak beasts saw this sole noon:
No goat, no sheep, no dog, no antelope –
The tough beasts breathed
A full day of nature’s breathe.
Categories:
gunless, confusionfreedom,
Form: I do not know?