You know, as per my posting name, I have to bring it all back to Buffy and Angel whenever possible, here's the result of Spike's end of the world poetry slam:
"My soul is wrapped in harsh repose,
Midnight descends in raven-colored clothes,
But soft... behold!
A sunlight beam
Butting a swath of glimmering gleam.
My heart expands,
'tis grown a bulge in it,
Inspired by your beauty...
Effulgent"
The story has been brilliant this year, as it always is, yet juicily different (adverb abuse, adverb abuse!) every time ...... I'm waiting for the floor tiles in my apartment to eat me .....ahhhhhhh!!!!