An audacious anarchist once stood before those who queried the factualism of their foresight that they all never knew. He clutched his saber so seditiously from his tattered sheath and plunged it deep within his cogitation so that others would see the malcontent depths that engulfs their ways. The perils that laid at bay for he laughed them all away, for all those who stood listened with such intent that his consciousness awakened those that saw the perils that were hidden in plain sight. Those were no longer led by the pack of wolves that left a corpuscles stench. The sheep they once were, now they were real men. An audacious anarchist once stood before the wolves and sheep and all the men stood so full of spirit as the audacious anarchist could finally see a purlieu before them that the foresight never allowed them to see. Now they clutch their sabers and plunge it deep within their own anarchist souls; so now the audacious anarchist could slumber and awaken to find the wolves hidden within the darkness of the trees. The land now belonged to all the men as they will never be the irrational sheep.
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