As I step into fresh mud,
I try and wade to fresher waters,
filled with
Sweet Fish



Sometimes poems are ther to express the unexpressable, sometimes they
are meant to make you laugh, to cry, to cheer or to sigh. Sometimes they
even rhyme. This is certainly not one of those times.

This poem is terrible, and there is no deep hidden meaning underneath.

It was simply a test, a poexperiment. Composed by me.




Penned by my hand on the 25th of Scarlatan, in the year 600 AF.