Space, emptiness, flavor
The distance between is something to savor
But what to do about Divine favor
When your conscience is a raver

So I'll put on my birthday suit
I'll wait for an FFA to root
For my favorite plant and favorite fruit
Before the Lag Monster gives me the boot

So, I'll rhyme along the river
And try not to shiver
As I see a bowman's quiver
A arrow to deliver

Flowing free, and formless flight
Neverending light
Of eternal night
The world is right

So put away your emnity
Put away your sanity
And surrender in entirety
To the Mortal of Insanity

Penned by my hand on the 6th of Sarapin, in the year 244 AF.