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“In the shadows of the night, A hare with crown of thorns in sight, With eyes that gleam with wicked might, And fur as black as darkest night. Its presence brings a hush of fear, For in its wake, destruction's near, Its very breath, a threat severe, A harbinger of doom and fear. Oh, how it revels in its power, This beast that comes in darkest hour, With every step, it makes us cower, As we succumb to its demonic power. Its crown of thorns, a symbol of pain, A sign of suffering, of loss and gain, A testament to its unholy reign, A ruler of darkness, a leader of the insane. We bow before this wicked hare, As it leads us into a world of despair, A world where evil reigns supreme, And nothing is as it seems. So let us revel in this darkness, And embrace the hare's demonic starkness, For in its wake, we find our bliss, And all that's good is swallowed by the abyss.” — D.L. Lewis