Grandue, you stride in with grandeur,
A titan's ego in a world much smaller.
You speak, words rolling like thunder,
Yet your audience slumbers, their minds start to wander.

You talk and talk, a relentless tide,
A flood of syllables, no room to hide.
Eyes glaze over, lids grow heavy,
A torrent of words, unsteady, unsavvy.

Oh Grandue, your stories, your lore,
They stretch on forever, become such a bore.
You're a king of verbosity, a sultan of speech,
But your endless prattle, no soul does it reach.

You think magnificent gestures, epic tales, make you grand,
But it's simplicity's touch that wins hearts, please understand.
Less is more, dear Grandue, take heed,
A whisper, a glance, can plant the seed.

Your ego, a Jester's balloon too tight,
Ready to burst, no relief in sight.
Deflate a bit, come back to ground,
In silence, in brevity, wisdom is found.

Your words could be diamonds, sparkling bright,
If only you'd learn to condense your might.
To speak with purpose, with meaning, with grace,
To let silence punctuate, to give words their space.

So Grandue, take this humble plea,
Your audience yearns to be set free.
From the madness of your endless, verbose spree,
Find power in less, in simplicity.

Grandue, your ego, let it simmer down,
Let humility become your crown.
For in fewer words, in measured speech,
True greatness, dear Grandue, you might finally reach.

Penned by my hand on the 2nd of Glacian, in the year 952 AF.