O'er several years some several souls
And sundry friends of such, had certain found
A darkness in the doings of all else
And that, of ample years. But ample hearts,
Are able in the arts of war. They spied
The several in a single, lonely cave
Where ample minded several to subtract
Each severally to make a sum indeed.
by Evan Wilson
And sundry friends of such, had certain found
A darkness in the doings of all else
And that, of ample years. But ample hearts,
Are able in the arts of war. They spied
The several in a single, lonely cave
Where ample minded several to subtract
Each severally to make a sum indeed.
by Evan Wilson
4 comments:
I've never been forced to calculate the coefficient of a poem, but if you insist. . .
Are you writing about individuals who are participants in the task of reaching the lost?
Nope, I wasn't.
Think Bonnie Prince Charlie, think Osama Bin Laden, think Masada.
I was thinking of the pattern of lost causes.
Oh. It is clever to have written a poem that exhibits the essence of the topic.
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