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Poetry is not one of my talents.
But if you insist...
When first this task I began/
It seemed I had a plan/
To root out evil and save the good from death.
I saw it all so plainly/
I would not labour vainly/
To fight the wolves unto my dying breath.
As I sought to find the cursed/
I thought I knew the worst/
The wolves were all the good would have to fear.
Shocked I was to discover/
We were betrayed by wayward lovers/
Who sold us all without a qualm or tear.
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Music alone proves the existence of God.
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