November 15, 2016


All Lands'Groan Over Strange Seeds Sown Sometimes Turn Stale As Many Do,And Some Taste Sweet,OSweet Flowers'Distant Memory,My Motherland Cry,I Set On A Chilly Weather,The FateOf Our Golden Commonwealth Unveiled,Warm Still For Every Round Of Inquisitorial Roil,Morning And Night,It Trickles Me With Wonderment,through Tilt Of My Broken Tendon,Dizzying My Cephallic Index,Retarded Psyches , Retinue Of Flippant Dunces,Ricocheted This Hollow Earth,Greatly Frozen,In Their FreewheelingNuances Of Figmenting Spaces,They Pale Seasons Dry,With Their Stinging Bees,the Morose Earth Moans And Desert Behind Them,And Nothing No Manure Is Left In Their Footprint,To Rebuild A Broken Posterity Threatened With Bigger Gale,And Behind Them A Desertcountry Stays At Home Forevermore,This Vile Of Sloven Weather In ItsHateful Perch,Never Departs,RotteningThe Land Beyond Curse,Unhappiness And Horror,Evidenced With Gauchy Clouds,To SomeDespicable And Unspeakable Depth,Sockets In Their Eyes Show No Remorse,with Crusty Foam ofill-thoughted

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