Never call Teylas Teytey.
Doing so would be cray cray.
But if you insist
on doing this
He'll punt you in the vajayjay.

We took the hill that day, Warrior Selika Roh di Plagia Wrath of the Dreadlord Proconsul of Plagueis at the lead,
cleansing the world of Jedi, we wished were dead,
"Wipe them out, all of them," she spake,
Burn them all like a hated Jar-Jar at the stake,
The view a few steps behind her was good enough for me.

What would I compare thee to?
You art like unto a Ithorian rose,
Wild and untamed, but beautiful.

What would I compare unto thee?
Like twin suns, rising in the morn,
Or the dance of three moons, setting across the sky.

What can compare to thee?
Only the cosmos, only its stature grand,
Can even compare to what I see from thee.

this is a joke
there's no need for love
sith are pure hatred
the force is my glove

tried to be funny
but those priorities are insane
so this is a poem
that's nothing but a pain

blood is red
i am blue
poetry is a worthless skill
this is worthless to me too

Oh Rosy Cheeked Lover
How your scales set my heart aflutter

with crimson stained tines
of a tail serpentine

the blood of our enemies makes me sputter