as he met the new charming flower,
Orange as he called her with love,
for she has slain away his bitter and sour,
but the flower seemed wilting,
clutching at straws of chauvinist beetle,
he was baffled by the guile thing,
and swore a doom upon her and the fetal,
the next day of sorrow,
she left him a torment,
which his heart can’t even swallow,
though the shade's been summoned,
to make his heart a hollow.
to whom he gave his soul,
was a dreadful among the shrew,
who made him an impure doll,
and let the sore heart flew.
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