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Fate, or: Folly

A Cywydd Llosgyrnog A leaf blown high into the sky lets out a wistful, knowing sigh: “Well, goodbye, my dearest friends.” Distressed, his friends kick up a fuss: “This shall not stand! He’s one of us!” Undone thus, all meet their ends.

Fate, or: Folly

Categories: Uncategorized

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