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Gallumpher peaves upon his perch;
He breathes harumphs with eyes alight,
With haunches coiled to frackalurch
In holes of rabbits white.

And once unleashed, he prangs a-fro
Upon scents of his tarrid prey,
Who’s fickened to its hides below
From my Gallumpher’s bray.

A first door, third door, fifth door, tenth—
His bearage folls on flanks of wrath
Into the welks, the Labyrinth,
To flesh its bony path.

Trophizing with his cartographs,
He whimsies me under the world,
Thence through the Fae with ember laughs—
Ho! Nightwing! Be defurled!