My dialect is affluent,
The vowels ring out and resound,
Lips parted and wide,
There is no obstruction
I earned my voice from the Wise.
Regurgitated a lot to keep my mouth from overflowing
To keep my throat from choking
Things that couldn’t be buried underground.
Passages of air would get in and it would surface again,
No laying down for the Resurrected.
I yearn to say praises
No clashing cymbal did anything but make noise,
A band of only clashing cymbals
Sound that wouldn’t cut a speck of sand,
North, East, West and South heard
And only does the Earth tremble.
How I yearn to sing praises,
A castle was built instead in the sand,
Can’t stand one minute in the storm.
My speech is fluent
a-e-i-o-u are free to roam
Lips are open for discussion
I earned my voice,
The work is shown in my hands.