Well you have done, Yes indeed The Box is defeated, this you can see. My rhymes are not great, The box knows this too, But your gift is all powerful, and not made of poo. The darkness you hold shatters and breaks, And in front of you rises a treasure, not steak. The treasure is breathing, and staring you down, But dont be afraid, no dont even frown, For the gift is a woman, so beautiful and tall Hot chicks dig poetry and yours rocked most of all. So go on with your woman, and lightsaber to boot. For the box has been conquered, and for the stars you should shoot.