LOVE COST NOT A THING
Love cost not a thing,
It’s a game of heart, not a sin.
ANIKE, the condiment of love
Which thrills man enough
A wrist watch in my wrist,
A jewelry I alone drift.
Emperor, a drunk lover from nowhere,
Master of hates, rancor inside he wears.
A wolf in sheep clothing, you know
Shall I release my ANIKE? Nah! Woe.
At my guide is ANIKE,
Even her sister MORENIKE.
Begone, be far from the wrenches,
They are vintage virgins, not batches.
ANIKE will never say yes
For you have failed love test.
She wilt yet say yes to your ear,
Only when lizard develops hair.
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