• The taste of roses in my mouth,
    Full of froth and hidden in doubt.
    Shout from the hill tops to the shrouds,
    Find the hidden evil, in the clouds.
    "Do tell me, oh wise great king!
    Have you tasted such wonderful things?!
    As roses on fire,
    Set across a blazing attire!
    Such things you never tasted before, great King!"
    For he was only a fool, and fools knew of no such things.

    But glorious he,
    Oh might oak, or tree!
    Fine a hidden ruin, beyond the great ocean!
    Then brew up the most tragic, yet hidious potion;
    Let it be free to all who will weep on this day,
    Glory be those who will stay and pray
    To heaven above, to find a new dawning of ages!
    Wonderful, glorious, traged occassions.

    But, none of this yet compares,
    To those might affairs!
    That of the taste which we all will aquire,
    That brittle folly to satisfy you, dear Satire!
    Merely pick up from thy thorny bush,
    A rose of olden, but do not rush!
    And then you will find, oh glorious beast!
    What a rose can be, a much glorious feast.