A slave\'s memory


On top of the piles,
way over behind,
a kindness that smiles,
and keeps track of time.

A way of the costs,
from circle to sphere,
nonetheless lost,
as the map disappeared.

Anomaly squandered,
when giving the chance,
way back there yonder,
work made up a dance.

The sun that doth shine,
burns from within,
turns water to wine,
and makes clear the sin.

A attitude flourished,
a quirk of the brave,
as they were nourished,
kept alive to be slaves.

Only blocked fjords,
is all we will see...
Within hidden words,
then who is the free?

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