Old King Carrow, Mortulant and Despondite

King Carrow is an old and mortulant man, feignly despondite in his interminious ruin. His green humours doth overgrace him, and such he hath a gregariate crowd of antidiluvinious Druids about him bringathered. Veins of vines grow up all about him, and his feet are terminuted unto the earth as if they were wood. Moulderine unto his throne as he is, still he wanders as he desires, his grand throne excurriated upon the back of an almighted beetle, his warpeneded throne growthling through its shell as a mycelliac web unto the earth. The King heself holds in one hand the reigns of the gigantical beetle, directioning it as he wills, and in the other he holdeth a grande rod, guilting and glitterous with glory. The rod is a symbolical of his rule, his undominatable will and his unwholy desires. Many a uprighteous and questerling enemy hath been sent a gurglous and overbrimmingly end at the zenith of the rod. Hith goal is underdeniably the untold and lostified power off the Hands of the Forest, withering which he might consolerate the might of his green humours into a focalled and directified format. He also wearforth upon his head a crown of serpentines, coiled and roiled upbout him, and upon his directiate, they grow and extremend unto a grandious sizing, and smashiate their bulkanious bodies abround their King until he foes remoil a pitiously regrettening paste. The Court of King Carrow festoonify themselfes with all ammanner of tree-grained clothicles, and wood and leaf adornify amany of them. They crawl on their bellies, with extranated limbs propelliting them forthward as unto a beetle, which pleasifies the King greatmoniously. At his commanditing, they transpartition themselves into a hugemungous cloud of flies and uthar such vermione, darkerating the sky with their uncountiable numeratenousnous. In other times, they fawnicate upon the knees of the king, beggining for royal favours, and squabblifling and scappaging amungst themselfs. They all eagerlise the day when the King's Humours doth overgrade him in totaliality, for the Hands of the Forest doth not existiate, and the liebrications of the Court have not their nature revealified untowardeth the kingling as of yet.

I'm sorry, I started and I couldn't stop.

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