A Hair From Perfection

Oh golden locks of single shard

The mane that blesses CCP Guard

Springs forth like the fountain of youth

Caressing his crown like eternal root

Not Hellmar’s prize of fiery red

A haggard dog, it will one day shed

Nor Punkturis’ voluptuous flaxen field

That in old age will only stubble yield

Even Karkur’s shock of awesome black

Will soon turn into a grey, burlap sack

And the savanna on Fozzie’s head

Will ne’er find a pride of lions dead

All of those by imperfection marred

None’s so stylish as New Eden’s bard

Abulurd Boniface

Read “Chateau Fusion” next

Abulurd Boniface

Abulurd Boniface

I fly around in space ships.