The Purgation of Emotions in Tenses
Chapter 28: Moma Poet
Never knew I would be far faraway
For too long.
Left with a see you soon smile;
My soon still soon for years.
Now that I am far faraway,
Searching for the greener part;
That you shall not begone just as you
Became.
Now we hear only our voices
Like we are not nearer.
I write thee in my words,
Should you know you begot a bard.
This shall be read if I return not:
This shall be recited if I return.
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