I’ll have what the image sells
The burnt skillet awaiting millet,
farmers owe debts to hell
Mafia fills the sandbags
Imported from drained banks
Grains in barren clay
Another baron powerplay
Scorched earth, open air kiln
Make and model ingrown, sin atone skill
Road to damnation paved with indemnity
Tar fumes, plans say gun, frame as necessity
Let the image stand untarnished under watch eternally
Regret pillaged lands’ harvest plunder, wrought paternally


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