A rose arose, arrowed in rows.
Suppose I probe this prose
With wit, wallowing in wonder?
Punch her with pressured puncture
And bad-illed battles.
Villianous, violent violets crackle
With crazy cravings.
Touching to change channel ratings
Until untilling of Atilla's attacks
Attracts atonement. Relax.
Just draw dragons or drag the
Jabberwocky dreading the dungeon.
Perfect the prefix of congress into
Progress.
Wittle the wisdom of Winston and Wilson.
Prose flows prideful finding flowers ~
