I tied my feet with zippy gears
Hence their hunter bags smell human.
Safe, only with my shadow
Under my guard in strange land.
It’s better imagined that to be real,
The butcher of brothers abroad
like bought Christmas goat,
Just in search of green pasture.
Tranquility powers curiosity.
Pandemonium reckons with marathon race.
From the lords of the land.
Lives in hands like a precious egg.
Xenophobia, a threat to inter-natonal treaty.
A grand sworn enemy of foreigners,
begotten of hatred for mankind
that stole confidence of new settlers.
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