o, crimson worm
art thou sick
in thy dark secret, flies
does the invisible storm destroy life
that night
howling in his bed
thy love has found out
and the joy of life rises
—
This is a remix of The Sick Rose, a poem by William Blake, one of my favorite Poets with a capital P. You can find the original here. I’m pretty sure I used every word and only changed one.
Words and Feathers 