A Hundred Years Hence
I presage many years hence
My poetry would be read,
To then spread some hope and cheer
Though I would long be dead.
Wish could from some secret door
Be able to see that soul,
Who would read my rhyme and verse
Laud its lyrical scroll.
Such would suffice my labour
For my runes would find their goal,
Reach portals of paradise
Having fulfilled its role.
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