A poem…

Generosity

Is a big

Weapon

Eschewing

Evil,

Forking out

Guts

Snarls of the

Pink Pig

Are so

Empty,

He knows

That dinner

Brings

The wooden

Stake.

The fate of

Sorcerers

Is the

Fire.

The Wolfe’s

howl:

“Child,

You are no

Man

If you don’t

Defend.

Take up death,

Coward.

Consign your

Inheritance,

Let the

Beasts

Devour it.”

The bear

Comes

To eat up

The fish,

It is only

Nature,

That grim

Monster,

Making

Heaven

Crystalline.

Throw off

This skin,

With spirits

Is the night

Bearable.

The sweet

Mother will

Heal a

Lover of

Truth.

All these

Villains

Must have

Something

To burn.

Fire hardens,

Making death

Victory.

The Pheonix

Knows.

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