The monochrome martinet
His texture is starch
The song is a march
And from the beginning
His duende was winning
But though he's a worthy M.C, 
He'll never be part of the three, 
Orpheum hacked
Faustian pact
Three might be duende, in fact.
Necropolis blowing apart
A ghostly sight
Emerges bright
Hot from the embers
The first team member
Is hatching a dastardly plan
Like a bird with a dsastardly egg
Trapped in his time
Lost in his rhyms
One might be duende defined.
Apocyrphal espadrille
The shaper of dreams
Returns to the scene
No diorama 
Could match his drama
A smile that would frighten the blind
The incubus freezes the mind
Fooled by his charm, 
Right off the farm, 
Sound might be duende's alarm.
Dystopia 
Smashed to bits, 
The keeper of dust, 
The builder of rust, 
When you discover 
Sleep's older brother, 
The trio is finally complete, 
The trio has just won his seat, 
Forged by their past, 
First in their class, 
Three might be duende, 
Three might be duende, 
Three might be duende at last.