Aye! Six bags of metatarsus
dwell amid these sands
The dusty powders that is earthly earthy-
Bad bruised beasts of banded beds
This is the best my tautology taught me
Those dusty powders are these boring bogs
The bags in my
one dwelled on
Those dusty powders are these boring bogs
But the occupiers are not left to forlorn
Amid soil, full pairs of soil beneat,
Where they madly drunk of sleep and net
Where thy debate in thine wordy words
Govern a brazen in mine government of thoughts
If thou doubt thee, solve and serve this salvation
And if thou win, if they be free of dirt Bad heads and
wigs
Dress I, with only fine fogs and figs
Then I be redeemed from my own redemption
Nay! Note, foolish men are only wise in their own
minds
God has long being foolish in many minds
Only trusted knowledge can cure men’s minds
And save these bad long sunk in Sands
O’ Cure, cure this insane-wot-one disturbed
And these Lords traversing in turns
When their thoughts are summary robed
Sound insanity shall surely be cured
Ebi Robert
(Who can give me an interpretation to this Piece? Please share your thoughts!)