Dearest, Powurful Sublikant of Pastures not spoken of
This may be made a formal apologie before i recan not my tale.
Every time i tell of my self i feel klosed into a darker box of my own
A year every flowering properties made me weak after i saw national
A King a reduced the bear Notable land.
Often i found myself in places where things walk but never talk.
Men proud but never balked.
Clearly the nation was backwards and everyone was Double
I was conflicted by my love of my nation and my nation.
They made little effort to save the Kings positions and trees made the
Deeply did they forget what was what and who was who.
Once i even know how into deprevity the Peoples of my nation was.
I flee until i know that safety of mine was no problem.
I ask for you Offer your shoes to bigger running
Now my formal appolgies come from the fact that i flee.
I saw the other king and my brain boiled.
Oil came from my eyes.
King of king and glory of all money will save a dying nation.
Deep in the secret island is where i lye.
The will power old women and young men.
If i keep the secrets of Confessions or deaths did to myself
i know i will flee foever.
Blackness inside i fleed to
Confessions saves and truly cleans the importal sole.
For your sole please confess and donate 10$ to help the king stay in
power and let me sleep quietly
My sorriest of wishes for you that don't do as my master advises
yours Lord Bris koko of the whole.
P.S. Leave the donation where the dogs breathe and your fear is clear.
"Give us all some Jelly"