STOP!
This poem is not to be readThe end will make you quit dead
And that being so
You really should slow
To a halt.
If you die, it's your own fault.
Actually, I don't need the hastle
Besides, my death ray's in another castle
So turn back now
Or continue on down
It's your fault
If you die, I told you to halt.
I see how unlikely it is
That you'll stop just because I ask, "Please?"
If niceness doesn't work
And threats are a jerk,
I will halt
Death will not be the result.
Anyway, I needn't defend.
Why? Because you're at the end.
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