Unlike reigning ECW champion John Morrison, I’m sort of at a loss for words after reading this poem he wrote for WWE.com:

Black sun descends into the mouth of night sky
screaming Fiery moon flies across tomorrow’s last
breath.
Serpents crowd the parlor floor
Eating away at each other with electric smiles.
In a corner of the room,
Far away from the maddening noise of the calamity,
His head aching with progress, A soldier sits lost in
the cryptic words of the general:
“This circus burns jet fuel boy…
HORSEPOWER!”