There was a small dream that none knew about,
It wanted attention very badly.
‘I’ll create a world from humans,’ it thought.
The first Alice held her sword gallantly,
Striking everything, in blood, they’re soaking,
Leaving a red path, she was locked away.
The second Alice sang, notes evoking,
A rose, he was, shot down with some dismay,
From him, a bright rose bloomed red, shriveling.
The third Alice was a beautiful one,
She created a strange country by tricking,
Possessed and decaying, she never won.
The fourth and the final Alice were twins,
Asleep in Wonderland, where nobody wins.
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