A wise man once did so decree
A grave and desperate prophecy
The man whose throne had just been made
Would fall upon a floral blade
The new king wasted a moment not
With the prophecy in his every thought
Every sword and blade he did collect
Which had any hinto of floral aspect
The smiths and smithies watched close
Against the prophet’s future boast
A kingdom was neglected thus
To parry this uncertain thrust
Until one day to the garden took
The king who his very lands forsook
He chanced to graze across his nose
The thorns from a humble royal rose
Gangrene soon reared its ugly head
And by week’s end the king lay dead
A lesson lies inside these deeds
One you would do well to heed
The road one takes to avoid one’s fate
Oft brings them to its very gate

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