An old-fashioned face, a relic
The top of his head, monastic
I detected a glimmer of grimness
A creep with an air of coldness

There was a hint of horror
He refused to look in a mirror
And when he passed near a window
I saw no trace of a shadow

His behaviour aroused suspicion
His looks, his moods in addition
He never talked, was unspoken
Or farted by the same token

But he’s there, all over the place!
I’m sure he’s from outer space
Kill him and bind him in chains
But what about the remains?


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