#1
Nothing left to write here...
Nothing else to say.
Nothing's new or beautiful;
The music's all been played.

Nowhere left to wander,
Nor to hang a head.
No more point in pointing out
The blood false gods have bled.

No one wants to witness
A symphony of whines.
No one needs a hollow protest,
Tortured 'til it rhymes.

No applause resounding.
The orchestra has died.
They've been floccinaucinihilipilified.
#4
Flock-in-au-cinni-hill-ip-ill-ih-fied?
There's only one thing we can do to thwart the plot of these albino shape-shifting lizard BITCHES!