Sum whirred a peers upon the Paige,
Mai site goes read, mined filled with rage.
Four nun, ewe sea, aloud should bee,
too spell a whirred in core wrecked lea,
oar leave it they’re fore awl two sea.
Its an at tack, eye no, they’ve maid,
aimed strait at mi, its thyme they paid.
ore aisle half failed in my grate quest
two show the whirled that Im thee best!
Grate worriers of the passed guyed me
too write this wrong witch mussed knot bee.
Aisle set them strait, yule sea, eye will.
A calmer voice comes from behind,
“It’s just a word, don’t lose your mind.
Relax, my friend, don’t have a care.
It’s really not your cross to bear.
See, better now, yes? They’re, their, there.”