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________ is an empty poet

Dredging up once-used remains

For his creation of insane proportions,

Stitching up his deformation electrified

Then left to play—

The doctor’s left with naught to say.

And _________ pens an angry rhyme

Preying on whomever's near,

Seeking out those vital tendons,

Hoping God will somehow mend him,

His curse is hurled upon a star—

Poor Lawrence Talbot goes too far.

Old ________ now, a horror story

dragging feet and spreading fear,

A dusty bag of ragged bones

Reciting verse of gripes and groans.

A royal pain untombed is he—

Moaning through eternity.

But __________ is another matter,

A troubadour until the end.

This musing monster plumbs the night,

Adores his blood and shuns the light.

Leveled for the sake of love,

Why—

Poesy fits him like a glove!

Though this lover may not know it

He makes a bloody decent Poet.

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________ is an empty poet

Dredging up once-used remains

For his creation of insane proportions,

Stitching up his deformation electrified

Then left to play—

The doctor’s left with naught to say.

And _________ pens an angry rhyme

Preying on whomever's near,

Seeking out those vital tendons,

Hoping God will somehow mend him,

His curse is hurled upon a star—

Poor Lawrence Talbot goes too far.

Old ________ now, a horror story

dragging feet and spreading fear,

A dusty bag of ragged bones

Reciting verse of gripes and groans.

A royal pain untombed is he—

Moaning through eternity.

But __________ is another matter,

A troubadour until the end.

This musing monster plumbs the night,

Adores his blood and shuns the light.

Leveled for the sake of love,

Why—

Poesy fits him like a glove!

Though this lover may not know it

He makes a bloody decent Poet.

-xx-

Is it.....Frankenstein?

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________ is an empty poet

Dredging up once-used remains

For his creation of insane proportions,

Stitching up his deformation electrified

Then left to play—

The doctor’s left with naught to say.

And _________ pens an angry rhyme

Preying on whomever's near,

Seeking out those vital tendons,

Hoping God will somehow mend him,

His curse is hurled upon a star—

Poor Lawrence Talbot goes too far.

Old ________ now, a horror story

dragging feet and spreading fear,

A dusty bag of ragged bones

Reciting verse of gripes and groans.

A royal pain untombed is he—

Moaning through eternity.

But __________ is another matter,

A troubadour until the end.

This musing monster plumbs the night,

Adores his blood and shuns the light.

Leveled for the sake of love,

Why—

Poesy fits him like a glove!

Though this lover may not know it

He makes a bloody decent Poet.

frankenstein. Created from stiched up bodies, woken to life through a bolt of lightning, and i think dr. frankenstein is killed around then...

the wolf man. It had me stumped.

3 has me stumped.

dracula. He sure likes his blood

Edited by Raoul
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