A Humourous Rejoinder

You spent quite a bit of ink telling me I'm dumb,
But, no worries! I've got a rift stock full of plumbum.
Making dimmer moments and stupidity endurable,
Unfortunately for you, trots-of-the-mouth is uncurable.

Come along Blink! My homunculus; you know him,
He's like you! Composed of lots of salt, and loose skin.
We'll together humour you, evaluate your levels,
Your Form is weak, don't worry mine's transcendental.

Collar young mhuns to serve your needs? Ick!
Melon headed rhymes, flow like a baby with colic,
Phlegm flying from your mouth, please retire to your attic,
Sang the song a third time over, verses into whine;
That's it!

There, think you've been reaved properly,
A statue of you would be some sight to unsee.
Inundate cholderic, boring with your chronic sensitivity,
Phleg lock won't stop your logorrheic pompasity.

But wait, I haven't engaged with your faith's religious limits,
My aggression timers started, I'll go priest in ten minutes.

Penned by my hand on the 20th of Ero, in the year 955 AF.