My lungs were burning as I ran through town,
and tried to escape the streets of cobbled stone
and he from whom I ran, that evil clown,
whose paint obscured a face I once had known,
but how could I know something that's unknown
and, thinking that, I knew it made no sense,
though I knew it true deep within my bones.
Then stirred by eyes so burning and intense,
I picked a pointy stick for my defense,
and chucked it at the creature's beastly heart.
I missed its heart by width of a ten-pence.
The clown, in turn, tossed it back like a dart.
Awaking to sharp pains in my frail chest,
the clown had slayed me, or so I guessed.