From the lost diary of King ArthurA Poem by andrew mitchell
A long, long time ago
around the time of the round table where knights gathered and sat telling tales, one seat remained vacant for this seat belonged to a knight of uncertainty, a knight that made one feel uneasy, fidgety, nervous beyond reproach. A knight of all knights a knight to remember a knight to make you shudder and scream, a knight wearing black, a knight hardly mentioned edited, erased from all legends, a knight of secrecy that creeps into your cranial mind leaving you screaming, and this knight’s name is…. Sir Prise. Gotcha! © 2024 andrew mitchellReviews
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2 Reviews Added on July 10, 2024 Last Updated on July 10, 2024 Authorandrew mitchelladelaide, AustraliaAboutStrindberg said. " When I come home and sit at my writing table, then I live.... I live, and I live in manifold fashion of all human beings. I depict; I am glad with the glad, wicked with the wicked,.. more..Writing
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