There once was a horkval
A young lady still
A beautiful virgin
Left a man to her will

She came to his house
And was fast dragged inside
All wrapped up and bundled
Severely bona fide

The man, he undressed her
And thus she laid back
With passion did he convulse
Vomitting on her egg sack

She leaned up with a kiss
So simple, so right
Then bit his head off
And slept satisfied that night


Yours in service to Horkval sex,
Desian Arcan, Master of Souls
Master of screwing up poetry posts.

Penned by my hand on the 22nd of Niuran, in the year 207 MA.