Poetic-Verses
THE FORTY-SIXTH/FIFTY-SIXTH CITY
The twines are high; he hides the jar
In the forty-six-fifty-sixth city
That is why the judgment is hard
No matter how I cry or try
But this morning, the gate has been opened
And I leave his mystical, ruinous city
Never more to be a slave;
Turn his word seven sixty degrees for torture on his brain and bane
But a progressive, victorious and bound-set saint
Don't touch that dial!
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THE FORTY-SIXTH/FIFTY-SIXTH CITY
THE FORTY-SIXTH/FIFTY-SIXTH CITY
