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Shame on the city environed with beauty
With great men of great valor by it's side
Aloof from mother nature
With it's kinsmen in meager
All ye great nations chide this city
A plague from the heaven

Equivalent is my city
For its walls are filled with glamour
The wealth palpable to both mind and soul
Exalted with glory and honor is it
Like a summer's day after the falling season is it
The rising sun from the east and it fare
With the angels does it consort.

But like the kinsmen of the city
The bricks of the wall are lamentable
stifled with the perjuries and the ostentatious arrays of the walls
For their ways are forsooth
They drink not from the cup of vile
But from the cup of tranquility are they not accustomed with.
They hold the key to life of peace in abundance

So my soul be filled with strength
Take the world's ways not
Tred the path of sincerity
And calm will be thy troubled breast.

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The following comments are for "Septulet 3"
by Henriamaa

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