PING*echo
A woeful attempt to mend your own aches
Like a cur, tail tucked, your upper lip quakes
Blame the gods, lovers, and also your kin
Crucify first yourself in the memory of sin

Poor lost soul, what shall you do?
Only speak words that forever bare true
Wretched beggar, where shall you sleep?
Under a bridge where the rats mind my keep

A penny won't do for knowing your thoughts
You had promise! Honor! That now comes to naught
Be mindful, make way. Hold yourself up!
Pour out your rum, don't dare sip that cup

Your luminous eyes show curiosity peaked
No! I shan't help you, your outcome is bleak
Your wrinkles shadow death, your tunic is torn
Step lightly on your path, so battered and worn

I fear I have lost you, your grace is now gone
At the end of your rope, for now it is dawn
Rest well old fiend, your strings have been cut
Find ye a new master, in the embers and smut

Penned by my hand on the 9th of Valnuary, in the year 678 AF.