"What are you up to?"
Asked the woman with the opium bosom,
"Where are you going?"
She questioned the penguin with long island on his mind,
"Do you see danger?"
He asked with crimson broken glass,
"Or is it happiness?"
He proceeded with anger and thus sold the bleeded,
She pertained and gold ran down his poisoned veins,
"Is it me?"
She believed and he grew old with the pretence she conceived,
"Is it thou?"
He frowned within the corpulence that he drowned,
And with that essence,
she left.