A silver tongue has been slain
Although one knows not of
The whereabouts of its remains
An ignorant old fisherman
Frequently fishes in the deep end
With the grandeur ounce of hope
In discovering intellectual enrichment
How I pity the poor fool, for I too know
That this valuable item shall never see
Even an inch of this man's flesh
Devastated the fisherman flees home
Aggression rising in his bones
Indifferent to the illumination
That his beguiling ways have painted
More than likely to this
He shall become better acquainted
It is blatantly clear that
A stranger indeed cannot
Grant his touch to
A distinguished artifact
And attempt to pass it off
As his own
However originality has drowned
Within a plethora of quicksand
As a result of a callous heart
Eclipsed by layers of ice
This cycle must be mutilated
It shall no longer suffice
Although one knows not of
The whereabouts of its remains
An ignorant old fisherman
Frequently fishes in the deep end
With the grandeur ounce of hope
In discovering intellectual enrichment
How I pity the poor fool, for I too know
That this valuable item shall never see
Even an inch of this man's flesh
Devastated the fisherman flees home
Aggression rising in his bones
Indifferent to the illumination
That his beguiling ways have painted
More than likely to this
He shall become better acquainted
It is blatantly clear that
A stranger indeed cannot
Grant his touch to
A distinguished artifact
And attempt to pass it off
As his own
However originality has drowned
Within a plethora of quicksand
As a result of a callous heart
Eclipsed by layers of ice
This cycle must be mutilated
It shall no longer suffice
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