. Power through theplagues . Wit for pace . This riddle’s just a race . Old self pities . Cleanse this city’s waste . I am the night . A tyrant of the shade . I am the spite . I am the pain repaid . I am
. of mortar and clay. In barios they stick em. by fire escapes They outlast the setbacks. earthquakes and plagues. They burn them like haystacks. and another one is raised in the backwoods of the
