Some mortals live a perpetual life of tyranny that gush from their heart like the fountains of Babylon.

He looks mean as he
Zips his wallet witha a contorted
And friendless face
He is by nature neither a giver
Of money nor a dispenser of love
A smile only comes onto
His face when he is drenched
In the blood of another man
The devil appears to have
Taken complete charge
Of the workings of his heart
That he lives with a heart of tyranny
So enriched with misdemeanor that
Not even his children feel him
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