I’d like to write a poem
With all my shriveled heart
But ponies and flowers
And ivory towers
Just aren’t my kind of start

We’ll change the pretty ponies
To demonic, Hell-born steeds
With tales and manes
Of underworld flames
Yes, this is what it needs

The flowers are not flowers
But giant, carnivorous plants
Devouring meat
To them as sweet
As sugar is to ants

As for the ivory towers
I’ll leave well enough alone
With blackest magics
And lives so tragic
Eating at the stone

Yes, this to me would be a start
Though, to some, poetic sin
It may annoy
But I do enjoy
A tale where evil wins