Gone are the days
When in a wild chase
I would have to scout for you, every bad day
Whenever my staff had faced decay
I might find one of you, or two
But the second would decay, too
Way too soon
Every other moon
Now, your home is in the rift
A much appreciated gift.

A magi signed this
In bliss





Penned by my hand on the 6th of Phaestian, in the year 969 AF.