Creative rhyming

[Interference]

Using nothing but a can of peas

And a slightly chipped antique commode

 

[Memnoch]

what strange things he had brought from his abode . . .

the unclean commode caused the crows to hit the road . . .

 

[Interference]

Away the Angel, singing, strode

Content full writ upon his ancient brow ...

 

[Memnoch]

gratitude unbridled, the man in delight did bow . . .


Unease filled the angel, gratitude sat like an ucomfortable robe . . .

 

[Interference]

That was made from burlap with perhaps a hint of wire

So barbed that it might even cut a devil's back

 

[Memnoch]

he feared also for his sack and crack . . .

now where did he leave that bag full of drugs he mused . . .

 

[Interference]

That had given him such pleasure while he abused

His body in a way that none could match

 

[Memnoch]

The Demon stode away ever searching for his batch . . .

the drugs he hunted to no avail, oh my lord how he wailed . . .

 

[Interference]

Beside his torment, all else simply paled

Though in his later life, he'd often laugh

 

[Memnoch]

whilst pouring fresh blood from an ornate carafe . . .

On one of these wistful eve's, a knock at his door promptly made him spill on his sleave. . .

 

[Interference]

The crimson liquor, which a stain did leave

Upon his favourite Killing Cloak's left arm

 

[Memnoch]

the outfit in that state lost all it's charm . . .

flinging said garment into the fire, his mood turned quite dire . . .

 

[Interference]

And he exclaimed, with angst and ire,

"D'oh! I'll never see another one like that!"

 

[Memnoch]

Storming to the door, he swiped at a bat. . .

yanked open the door, the bat now squashed to the floor . . .

 

[Interference]

The fat bat went splat on the mat, however did he manage that?

It's time to reveal the secret truth ...

 

[Memnoch]

The banging at the door was non other than Don Buth . . .

the animator extrodinaire in shock at his hosts appearence lost all his hair . . .

 

[Interference]

But took note of where it fell so he'd know where

To find it if he needed to again

 

[Memnoch]

he looked up at the Angel of darkness n began a beggin . . .

. . . may I use your phone as I have punctured a tyre on a fragment of bone!"

 

[Interference]

Meanwhile, in the empty house of ice (not stone)

Where lived the man who began this tale ...

 

[Memnoch]

he sat his icy throne all wan and pale . . .

. . . he contemplated he pondered his mind a wandered