Ode To Toll House

As I stare at thee, the last refuge from the gas fired hell that is the oven, I take pause as I contemplate thy brief existence.

The warm chocolate juices that flow from thine own insides, covering my flesh and coating mine own passage as I consume thee, the last morsel of existence before I devour thee.

Thine existence was but a flicker in time, the passage of thy richness into my bosom giving warmth within mine own soul and comfort to my senses.

Alas. Be still, and be remembered.