A mystic sought to be one with all things,
but couldn't make it, allowing no strings,
"I'm a little bit torn:
one with rose equals thorn,
and one with bees invites many a sting."
Four Athenian youths fled out to the trees,
lacking the love geometry to put hearts at ease.
It might've been tragic,
but Puck worked his magic.
They returned by twos, not ones or threes.
The youth sought to forge a utopia,
but suffered a kind of myopia.
They built a grand city,
but the people were shitty.
That's how you make a gleaming dystopia.