Wednesday, July 8, 2009

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!"
so true origins read yew...

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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! "
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!

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