Treasure Base Of The Night Poem by Ebi Robert

Treasure Base Of The Night

Twan, die and dance around.
This very glare has a fine moon.
Rested above the tone.
Twan die and dance around.
They said am mad for writing.
And mad for trusting on rhymes.
Twan dies for dance.
Fresh anew.
The blinded moon is who?

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Ebi Robert

Ebi Robert

PORT HARCOURT (Niger Delta)
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