Imbued With Tradition
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Imbued With Tradition Poem
Down the road we slowly go,
And hear the echo of fate.
The sudden bends and turns we take
Have purely supported claim.
But little did we know,
That the further we go,
We’re bound to find our fate.
The siege of your heart is heady,
And the passing of time is plenty,
But the expected price, is seemingly high,
And conquers the fortune of all our lives.
Build in mixing glass, longer stir, strain into rocks glass over large cube