Accursed Be the White Nose Hair!


Accursed be thee, yon white nose hair!

Ne'er seen a strand in color so long and fair.

    A wretched pale spire of thy damned kin,

    Thou hast grown too far o'er mine own chin,

    To belie the youthful mirth of thy wearer's face,

    Flaunting thy thread-like wisp in mock disgrace.

Bereft of merit and void of charm art thou,

A ghastly figure now waves unfurled upon my prow.

    Thy wind-blown sprawls o'erreach thy nostril's tomb,

    Clutching like a phantom from thy cavernous womb. 

    O! what vile purpose dost thy girded ivory will intend?

    What quarry seek’st thou, that heaven dare not send?

Would'st thou not resign to dress in shadow?

Prithee, diminish thyself in my beard's dark meadow.

    Shroud thy weedy form in concealment's strength,

    Spare my neighbor's glance thy twisted, gnarled length.

    Do not tempt to steal a wayward or unwary gaze,

    Or call to question my razor's skillful graze.

Begone, faithless and accursed white nose hair!

Thou hast burned bright aloft, and all who see thus stare!

    I pluck thee from the cavernous depths of mine own face,

    And doom thee to wander spiraling currents of empty space.

    I therefore hurl thee to the vast abyssal air beyond,

    Until thy fate be sealed upon the Day of Judgement, anon.

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