Mini-Mower - an act of creation in 6 Days

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The sacred POP accrues - Thy shalt Lay together to perceive thy form
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Thy Form is well, let the Art-of-Arcs (welding) craftsmen begin their trade
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Its feet shall run with the wind, for the scooter-drives are on our side.
Thy revolving Drum evolves with power, the better to smite thee.
Friction shall drive it, That slippage be allowed and stalls never met.
Motors of Power, Reductions of Rubber, I bid thee -Revolve and Rotate !

Fearsome are its Teeth, carefully crafted to knock hell out of thee..
Rotating, Hi Carbon Tool Steel will be the instrument of thy doom
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The creator pauses to survey his Handiwork. Yea, it is good..
Let not they teeth foul thy drive, for that would be most distressing
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Scales tell the Weight truth, and the timing of thy Motors shall be done
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and in a flash of light, let thy naked steel be clothed in war-paint

and all is done, The Beast is complete, tread lightly, lest it awaken angry.
and decide to test its mettle on your tender flesh or thy metal warrior

The Jaws of Destruction approach, Your fighting Knight's life grows cold

and departs this mortal coil at the hands of your nemesis, its last view from the air, having been callously tossed there by the Vortex of Steel.

--< The End >--

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