Oh boy...
Yeah. This is a shameless rip-off of Shakespeare's famous Sonnet 130. Don't blame me, blame Breakdown: he's behind this!
The "Dark Femme" Sonnet
My beloved's armor is nothing like the snows;
My lord's eyes are more red than her optics' red;
If snow be white, why then her optics are rose;
If helms be horns, two horns are on her head.
I have seen gildings, silver and gold,
But no such metals see I in her cheeks;
And winter's breath is scarcely more cold
Than the poison that from my beloved reeks.
I love to hear her speak,-yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw Solus Prime go,-
My beloved when she walks, treads on the ground;
And yet, by the Allspark, I think her as rare
As any she belied with false compare.
So mushy! I might gag.