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You could have kept your lies and might have fleed,
but your books soaked in tears is still in what i read.
Turn these tables with harsh brutal sounds,
till mead and wine all abundantly touch the ground.
Forsaken was your soul untill now.
I permit myself to serve, i shall bow.
Let me reach your heart not with enchanted potions.
Let me show you my deepest devotions.
I shall be the bard who sings you good moods.
Let me be your protector like the ghillie dhu in it's woods.
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Anthony Willems.