Untitled.

I warped the moon while I waited
A thousand beady eyes stared
I went on twisting her sinews
Till her voice was impaired
She croaked like the midsummer crone
I broke the vision of the moon
She struck in hysterics of ire
I burnt her in cold, cold fire
And then you opened the door
The moon was beautiful as before.

If i am cured of my sinfully slothful nature, the strip will soon follow.