A Cryptic Poem

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Tangy alabaster knows each,

plucking harps of the orange scent,

telling hats and taupe,

"To evil lies lime!"

ambiguous...

so true origins read yew...

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But once lost in translation...

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The alabaster recognizes all,

this orange hardly the toothing-stone of the scent of the selection,

is gray-dark the protection of the protection and that one,

"Of the false lime milked one of the voice it is! "

Ambiguity…

this type of the iron and steel industry of the true origin of the honorarium informs to him…

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There's a link to lost in translation in the links list!