It isn’t up to chance
But time and circumstance
A deep imposing matrix that in itself defines the dance
And yet to know the time
When motion crosses the line
A steep disposed exitrix leading the way out of divine
Could help direct the course
Of this Galluping Horse
Will keep composing subjects holding hard the reigns to the source
Thinking of all the fun
On the path along the run
A reap exposing codex claiming a stake under the sun


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