Post by darkaus on Apr 4, 2008 22:29:13 GMT -8
Author's note: Having listened to Lewis Carroll's poem "Jabberwocky," I was inspired to do a creepy poem with nonsense words myself. 
Upon a road from Turnicwane a dying moon does cast disdain
And from her hair contempt will drip
as jagged fingers rend, and rip the icy sky, and on the plain
below, a mighty road of light goes swipper-sweeping through the night.
It passes all the cocsoon bounds, and chases early sacrass down.
Oh traveler you'd best beware when the liftlef fleef floats on the air
and lost, alone, you turn to see the swipper-sweeping sweeping down.
for on that path of pearly hue the great Heshuet be drawn to you,
with lupine fangs and swampish breath, it will astound you into death.
Once a man of trifle years and trifle thoughts and trifle fears did seek to part
the sacrass down, and walk the pearly road from town between the time of 12 and it's ten.
The liftef fleef was floating then, casting its rot stench all around.
The road was bright with cold moonlight, the cocsoon bounds had gone to ground... ah then,
so fleet, so sphit, so skeet, the Heshuet hovered to the stones.
His jaws begot a terrible grot, he hissed and heaved and cachared and groaned.
The sweeping claws and eyes like pits explored his victim bits by bits, he roared and tore
and burned... poor sott. We buried what the beast forgot
when with the first of the coming light the Heshuet faded, from men's sight.
Oh many times we old have tried to rid our peaceful countryside of this gavanting equankair,
We fought, died, added blood to the gore that turns the grasses brown.
For in those fields, lush sacrass crowned the cocsoon bounds be onto you.
Curse their many eyes and smiles, all grim, laughing like women and smelling like Him.
So runs the path from Turnicwane into the sacrass sweeping plain,
Beware the Heshuet poor sott. His fetid breath and gavanting gvits.
His tiny paws with dreadful claws, his ever smiling lips
a-grin, his eyes alight upon the swipper-sweeping thought the night
that parts the day from the twilight town, and sees our grand-kin bedded down.
Upon a road from Turnicwane a dying moon does cast disdain
And from her hair contempt will drip
as jagged fingers rend, and rip the icy sky, and on the plain
below, a mighty road of light goes swipper-sweeping through the night.
It passes all the cocsoon bounds, and chases early sacrass down.
Oh traveler you'd best beware when the liftlef fleef floats on the air
and lost, alone, you turn to see the swipper-sweeping sweeping down.
for on that path of pearly hue the great Heshuet be drawn to you,
with lupine fangs and swampish breath, it will astound you into death.
Once a man of trifle years and trifle thoughts and trifle fears did seek to part
the sacrass down, and walk the pearly road from town between the time of 12 and it's ten.
The liftef fleef was floating then, casting its rot stench all around.
The road was bright with cold moonlight, the cocsoon bounds had gone to ground... ah then,
so fleet, so sphit, so skeet, the Heshuet hovered to the stones.
His jaws begot a terrible grot, he hissed and heaved and cachared and groaned.
The sweeping claws and eyes like pits explored his victim bits by bits, he roared and tore
and burned... poor sott. We buried what the beast forgot
when with the first of the coming light the Heshuet faded, from men's sight.
Oh many times we old have tried to rid our peaceful countryside of this gavanting equankair,
We fought, died, added blood to the gore that turns the grasses brown.
For in those fields, lush sacrass crowned the cocsoon bounds be onto you.
Curse their many eyes and smiles, all grim, laughing like women and smelling like Him.
So runs the path from Turnicwane into the sacrass sweeping plain,
Beware the Heshuet poor sott. His fetid breath and gavanting gvits.
His tiny paws with dreadful claws, his ever smiling lips
a-grin, his eyes alight upon the swipper-sweeping thought the night
that parts the day from the twilight town, and sees our grand-kin bedded down.
