Perhaps you are the fool,
Sitting there and wondering
If the words you see before you can be possibly true.

You assume that I am here standing in grandeur
That the right to knowledge
Is something wrong to acquire.

Perhaps you are the fool,
Sitting there and wondering
If the words you see before you can be possibly true.

My quill is not blackened, nor greater than yours
I have not told any by my might
To do any tasks they might not enjoy.

Perhaps you are the fool,
Sitting there and wondering
If the words you see before yuo be possibly true.

Surely, I, a bard, may use my poetry, to make
The second move in my dance of love
Corbett, I am disappointed that you have so written

For her words, when written, will win my love...


Penned by my hand on the 16th of Valnuary, in the year 371 AF.