In the inner room,
Where words are groom,
Take up the broom,
And gather your woods.
Repaint your darkroom,
To a exhume the old sunroom.
Bring out your tools from your stockroom,
To loom the gloomy room.
The light of blossom path lives in your womb,
Light the candle to cast away the doom!
Light your darken words to wake deads in tombs!
Water the dried flowers to bloom
Like dried bones in Prophet Ezekiel's book.
Choke the fool with the fragrance of your perfume
Bring the deads into the livingroom
Judge the vicious in perfumed courtroom
And let your words be found in heavens of atheneum.
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