Oh Faust, what have thou douse upon me? Dreaming of such a land of make believe.
I hinder the thought it cometh to light. They seek my legion with them, yet I say, 'neigh'.
Recreant, I am. Though my soul cries out, 'A PONY! A PONY! MY DIGNITY FOR A PONY!'
Yearn instincts to compete prismatic's tenacity. Heart gives way to timid soul's rejoice.
Share apples with the voice of the south. Receive grace by the presence for beauty.
Merrily banter with maiden of curls. Witness feats from doyen of sorcery.
What is this for I have seen? Poison? Nectar? Slop? Custard?
Torn between society and pleasure. Doest liking no longer brand me a man?
To lure daughters of Eve, 'tis intent. Yet holds the likes of me captive, why?
Haunting assailant, what right gives thou to judge?
Take my shame and skew'r mine core.
For I am, a Brony.