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It comes an unwelcome part of the nook where the orator quit of his authorship.When the Cook and her pun tipped and seldom dreams toppled,spewing over their kinds. Now they dance to something amongst lanterns,dangling of claims in freedom and clenched at fists.Children of mirth,that they should be elbowed at their courtship. Could it have been the lean Sarongs and haberdashery?From whom ambient words find their need to strike the reed,with the Greek whose aunt owns a horse tamed by the Trojans. Lest it's informed,old Adage should mind the load; Otherwise the hooves to bend; Plain advice lends. Feeling the limbs languid from her acid,I trot for my fibre walking tall across the anticlines and synclines from the pestilence.I had known the pastureland as a recluse from the dairy bugle.The winter of the derision,AD-Fortified; Had i seen the daughter and the dowries and the kindling fairies had resumed. Had only that wore on Achilles' back ended,Alas; Zion hath earned it's semblance and Ajax recalled not,from his cowardice? The pen slipped,in by a herded heirloom hastening for the two o'clock.Charlie docked,put on this grey Cloak declining a mere ounce of gluttony.Bounced awkwardly on the sidewalls of the rotating organ; Resounding in the sidewalks.Yet again,Hoarsely plucked his fallacies kit,threw a croak over the plighted head,gulping in the airs; Admonished of the newly found furniture and the same moderated room temperature front of her dismay. He rose timid,braced the burst crew on sand shore and with agility spoke to his chores about the abatement of anomaly.Swayed, mentioning how sad a horse should have lived under such scarcity; To another man from the expansive router and never ending sagacity. His hedger took to centre stage,etching on wood to be ferried on crimson,whom would speak some fetched language of the winds to realms ethereal! But he rose from the mud and sludge,untangled some motes of hair of course,like the meek legion he was on paper.Beneath it all relinquished as the spearhead,are portfolios he's brought up,fletched with an art in smoldering; Words spelt as of Boom,as he fell faint to the floor again. Clung still,in the sentience from the resolute gentry and risen; Now a veteran before his welfare jaunts.Jet Black of the Atient; Who assembles a bench and offers it to the Brethren for a commission.




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