Poem tittle : The stemmain.
Early morning the sun sets, the stemmian heart melts. The goats is bleating the steemian's brain is pondering. He wonders where comes the thunder , and how freely the sun rays pierces the softened sky asunder. He has to steem today to safe the world, he carefully weighs his option as if moving his queen on a chess board. The stemmian has the power to save , he flies without no cape but puts the wrong ideas in a cave...
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