I am the bomber, part 2. (dedicated to all of the libraries in Salt Lake County)

I, bomber of an ancient rhythm,
the fallen sun, and the sunken rung.
And the hurt, and hurted, mastery. I am can undergo.
But I cannot undertake, my masters wishes.
Because of the faith, that it displays, on itself.
The master is the best of the best,
and it's not within me to judge, his curtailing,
and forgoing.
I am the messenger, of the old, way.
I am the esteemed, and the crop, and the cream.
And I candidly, decline.
I do not shake, or shine, my way,
Like so many of us had, their holdings, displaced, and had their lives most completely, and totally, and utterly, destroyed.
I am the light, that falls, on walls, and the only thing, which stands in the way.
I am cursed, but I am fair, and I lost, and Sig-none-Fair
I am in my mind, a lot these days. I am not but I can dare.

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