Who be this foe from yonder place
whose peering constant fixed
upon thus yards with folded arms
with nothing done betwixt
That wretched soul of gabbling verse
a not see brand for sure
the fourth reich of the current day
the grass count queen couture
Her eyes doth drift and spy without
to find her next culprit
the enemy of the culdesac
that break her lawn pulpit
For her domain 'pon settled earth
hath rules and laws within
and lest she waste her timely gaze
complaints her gunga din
Forgot she thus the One above
who reigns and rules on high
Who watches yards of living souls
the path procured and thrived
Upon His eyes the not see ones
who legislate with strife
the temporal yards of fleshly pride
shall cost eternal life
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