It breaks my heart,
The destruction of art,
That locates opposite,
The whole in which we fart,
It was burnt alight,
T-legs and poets alike,
knowledge lost,
But at what cost?
We look forward, as we should,
Like the stiff mornings wood,
Relight the fire that once burnt,
And let leg regain the tripodium it earned.
For Tlegolas
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A touching and most emotionally stirring ink, well penned. Tfs.
great last line