Clothe in Vacuum

Walking through the valley
Of the shadow of dry death
I behold evil in a state of sorry
As he sent away every mirth.

Looking at the mountain of old
I saw a fattened desolation
Let out a wry smile he’d sold
To purchase our folly in admiration.

The head of the fish was clothe
In vacuum like a tree stripped of
Its bark in winter and to breathe
Became difficult for it to surf.

The misty cloud’ll vanish soon
And all will leave their cocoon.

Bard Tosin Morakinyo

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