<hr>


    From: Corvina


    To: Anne


    I could have gone about my life the same


    from day to day according to my plan


    had not she chosen then to say my name,


    for with that word the tumult she began.


    With easy smile she flooded through my soul


    and washed out all the things that held me back,


    and once I was no longer in control


    I had no back-up plans to there enact.


    For my love is like the lightning''s sudden strike,


    which careless of its strength and blinding flash,


    scars all the hills and trees and hearts alike


    where''ere it deigns to turn the land to ash.


    Yet never have I been more grateful than


    I am for this calamity—My Anne.


    <hr>


    From: Anne


    To: Corvina


    I never understood how poets think


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.to twist their rhymes, words so in sync,


    or craft a clever metaphor


    with ''as'' and ''like'' and so much more.


    Or does that make a smilie?


    I simply do not know, you see.


    But for all my faults that you might find,


    when you placed your lips on mine


    and I knew at last that this was real,


    I understood how poets feel


    <hr>


    From: Eva


    To: Anne


    What I''ve always known is that


    in this world there is pain


    and there is you.


    There are wicked people in this world


    and I can often feel my own sin


    crawling underneat my skin searching


    for any break or tear to claw its way out.


    But also, there is you.


    And there is ugliness in this world.


    When I look at my own reflection


    in a mirror and feel my stomach churn,


    I remind myself that somewhere,


    out there,


    hopefully nearby,


    is you.


    But if I am to understand that you


    are gone now from this world,


    then will you tell me, please?


    What is to become of pleasure


    and goodness


    and beauty?


    For I no longer know where to find them.


    <hr>


    From: Agis


    To: Helen


    Trees are green


    Arrows are sharp


    You are so cute


    you''ve stolen my hearp?


    Arrows are sharp


    Trees are green


    I like you so much


    won''t you be mine (but say it like mean)


    Arrows are sharp


    poems are hard


    I''ll see you tomorrow for archery practice


    <hr>


    From: Sebastian


    To: ????


    I do not know yet what to say,


    or if you''ve stolen my heart away,


    but as we sit under this canopy,


    I wonder what you might mean to me?


    <hr>