Seems like a weary road
Roasted in the pawn of weary hearth
Seems like every wince dejected by weary
sands
Although it has grown darker than we thought
As we cast aspersion over the prior vapor of weary road
Behind the clouds
Since we last berthed
At the coast of golden valleys
Whereon we climb Mt.everest
To the zenith of golden hills
whose annex requires rationalistic
Mortar pounded by rationalistic
Behold let artesian well
runs forever
Befriend my colosus the final intestate
Of the golden stars who lives in the golden hills
They take medley with compassionates
And rescind them yokes from weary road
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