Four and twenty ravens in an Edgar Allan Pie.
When the pie was broken, the ravens couldn't sing.
Their throats had been sliced open by Stephen, the new King.
The King was in his writing house, stifling a laugh
While his queen was in a tizzy of her own bloody Lovecraft.
The dead maid got the garden for her rank as royal whore,
But King's shovel made it double and he married nevermore.
10/10/11
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