Mantillas risk the tidings change,
brew the maniac potion.
Ring my bell with great ease
and lead me to an ill foreboding breeze.
That breeze is blowing from the east
where the moon grows strong
off the eves of trees.
I know this because of the lantern bugs.
However, I was wronged.
The lantern bugs read the words
of anti-empathetic skin of pandas.
The pandas fur had been shaven
from the deities novel ideas
from nonsense land.