O Mother duck, Here lies a tragedy of gore.
In city's heart, by pond, begins Court lore:

"QUACK!" cries its ducks in the park,
Why now! Why Us! We are so stark!

The Verdant Horde approaches, axes gleaming.
Through the Houses and Walls, the CiTy is screaming.

"QU-ACK?!!?!!" - The sounds of fear - they sing in air,
As axe descends, cleaves and leaves disrepair.

Feathers float in ponds crimson tide,
The Horde's raid time, is not to be denied.

In the end, the duck once free to quack,
Lies silent, in the pond yearning for time back.

O Mother Duck, giver of bread,
Why must the gentle face such dread?

We are but ducks amidst the Courts walls -
Waddling through life, where bread crumbs fall.


Penned by my hand on the 22nd of Scarlatan, in the year 941 AF.