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The temper of the master swordsman's blade
is wrought through perfect curing of the steel.
The mind of man's an implement unmade,
awaiting forge and fire, to make it real.
Men's cruelties, gargantuan and small
exist despite the rules religions preach.
Many who spot the mote, hypocrites all,
deny the beam inbreeds the lies they teach.
As mother's sons connive to kill and cheat,
pride's leprocy lays rot to spirit's face.
The vanity of men is full, complete,
a monument to humankind's disgrace.
Without self-tailored tweaks to monkey brain,
Man's relevance in life, will ebb and wane.