Shades of brown,
The dry dusts that caper and caper,
Dancing dastardly to foggy rhythms,
Which is the supercilious wind.
Halt! Peevish things!
A forceful host,I have become
Of your unmannerly spite.
For Rose awaits on the meadows yonder,
A beauty like the shimmering petals,
That oozes infallibility.
That blows hell and ice.
Disdainer of lovers,
That sours sweet kisses with broken lips.
The necromancer of filthy dusts,
That clings on hags and belles.
How will i explain my five seconds blondness to Rose?