Ode to an Icon, Failed

COTWWSB once had a challenge amongst ourselves to make the worst possible Orlando Fangirl Icons. Meaghan promised to write an ode for the winner of this contest. She kept her word. This is her ode to Bonster's hideous icon, based on John Keats's Ode to a Nightingale. I'm sure Keats is rolling over in his grave.

My eyes ache, and a sickly feeling pains
My gut, as though a tubgirl I had seen,
Or viewed some horrid sight which burned my brains
One minute past, and made them unclean:
'Tis not through envy of thy graphix skillz,
But being astounded by thine product here,--
That thou, fair artist Bonster oh so rad,
By our nefarious wills
With brightest green and crappy text unclear,
Makest an icon so grotesquely bad.

Had I a draught of brain soap, that hath been
Strengthened with crack in Nicole's dark lair,
Smelling of Flora and the country green,
I'd clear my head of thoughts, and then I'd share.
O for a beaker full of that great stuff,
To make us pure, and blissfully pristine!
Its beaded bubbles winking seem to say,
"No brain stain's too tough!"
Then we might make the icon be unseen,
And we all could forget, and it would fade away:

Fade far away, dissolve, and disappear,
And all the group pretend we'd never known
The awfulness, the horror, and the fear
Brought on by the icon you have us shown;
Now terror shakes a few still frightened souls,
Their youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies;
And but to think of it is to fill with gloom.
Like walking on hot coals,
The icon stings the viewer's sorry eyes,
And ever scars our thoughts of Orlando Bloom.

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