Oh! Oh! Oh!
God prosper long our noble king,
Our life and safeties all!
A woeful hunting once there did
To drive the deer with hound and horn
The child may rue that is unborn
The hunting of that day!
Oh! Oh! Oh!
Epic Poetry Part 2
Three white horses cantered through the ambush,
slightly serrated on the inside curve
the deadpan radiant perfection, in the sentences
Lord Malice could do something nefarious
His build was slim but strong, like a rapier
Between these two rode a raven-haired lady
The craggy piece of the granite
Drew herself up with regal disdain
soon they will bed down
A doe, with a pronounced limp
And there was a ruddy light
from stolid glaciers
A brooding mist crept along the floor
and a buckskin tube protected his sliver bow.
In the face of moral sin
The river flows soothingly yonder,
The mountains and valleys above have azure skies,
Intensely confounded and feeling voluptuous,
For the nifty zephyr is everywhere, aloft and above.
Down therein yonder,
Strident recrimination hitherto transpire,
Stringent laws, viz discrimination,
Therein is the reception of hell.
Stymieing, not minding,
Affluent people, have auxiliaries, slaves,
Indigent people are innocent to be slaves,
Invariably being sold to recalcitrants people.
Intensely confounded, not voluptuous,
Abject confound, not euphoria,
Is the world of 22'st millenium.
Reverting to BC is the maiden thing to redress,
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