Removing color from your sight
Nightmarish vines block your way
Thorns reach out to catch their prey
And by the pricking of your thumbs
Realize that their poison numbs
From frightful blooms, rank odors seep
Bats and beasties fly and creep
'Cross this evil land, ill winds blow
Despite the darkness, mushrooms glow
All will rot and decompose
For something wicked this way grows..."
MockBeth (the Scottish Gardening Manual)
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