He was angry with his foe
And his wrath grew strong
Till his wrath became aglow
With his vengeful wish all along.
He went to an old witch on a hill
As his wrath was growing stronger
And asked her for a portent spell
To fill his foe with wrath of an avenger.
Thus was laid a wreathe of wrath
On his foe by the paragon of wrath
That consumed his everything to ashes
Ere it bore a fruit in his foe with gashes.
Impressionist 
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