With brain God but never do to expressed
Good art comes from hard doing, not lucky
As like who have treated to sing
When you find the heating wind roll
In your journey it attacks the ship
If epigraphy paints with murmurs colour
The readers created with bad creatures
Then at the last with those colour unmeaning
They do without a though of long brain
Just couplet ends the painting
Like satan deceived Eve ate Khuldi slowly
At 11.36 A.M
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