No assist for did I ask,
Or need to take fool goat to task.
Cannot scribble to a beat,
Hate to read it, Muses weep.

Awful too did lyrics fly,
Though he gives his usual "try",
Go not for another round-
Poetry board my hunting ground.

Try to parry, to deflect,
For stubborn pride your crypt erect.
Maybe this you'll listen to:
Even jesters laugh at you.

Penned by my hand on the 25th of Glacian, in the year 996 AF.