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Behold, the woman's monthly flow, deemed the 'curse,' a tribute to the ancient sin of Eve, the blood of an unborn babe, a debt paid by her daughters throughout time.

In sooth, mine package hath arrived upon yon horse's back

Knave!

In the contest of thrones, thou dost either emerge victorious or meet thine end.

Fair colt, whose bucket holds the fruit of the orchard, pray tell, how many apples doth it carry? Doth it overflow with nature's bounty, or doth it carry a modest harvest?

Verily, I doth fear that I am plagued by visions fantastical, hence I must consider the remedy of daily bloodletting to expel such illusions.

In verity, I shall discourse with whomsoever and whatsoever I deem fitting, for 'tis the Lord's will upon me.

Thou seemest a very sleepy young lad, ready for a good rest.Thou seemest a very sleepy young lad, ready for a good rest.

I am devout and fiercely loyal to the holy flame

Thou dost smell of a baboon with a red, stinky bum.

Thou art a creature not of this world, yet thy intellect doth lack the luster of the stars.

Upon the stage, where shadows softly sway, This man, in folly's grip, begins to play. In dreams he finds his fleeting sense of worth, A dance of delusion, upon the earth.

In twilight's grasp, he roams alone, A mind ensnared, a soul unknown. In shadows deep, his thoughts take flight, A delusion's dance in eerie light. Haunted woods, his kingdom drear, Where whispers chill and specters leer. Lost within his twisted mind, A delusional man, forever confined.