Take something quite ridiculous:-
And fashion a poem with it.
I have an idea!
Conjure from the fume
An Oracle: dreamy-eyed and high
She speaks in riddles,
To hold you in a net suspended over a
Couldron of wish-fulfilment.
"A great Empire will fall"
Assume your enemies end-
For who would imagine, drunk on power,
The demise of his own?
Now, I will bring you back, laughing,
From this grave imagining, though perhars
We should repent and weep. For,
Have you not heard, the
Doomsday Clock is set at 2357?
THAT'S three minutes before apocalypse, to you.
Don't be alarmed. This is a nonsense poem.