Quiet, children -
Turn down your volumes
Oh, what's that?
Something wicked this way comes.

Maybe they don't teach you proper
Up where they'd worship Strife.
You called out his whole family -
But you forgot about his wife.

She'll run you up and lay you down,
Then leave you in the streets,
Wasted in the gutter -
Just like what the horse excretes.

Now stop your silly playing,
Don't stray from child's games.
And before you let your tongue run wild
I'd suggest you learn the names.

You know not where you tread, my child
You're but a spark, and we're the blaze.
You're a breeze, and we're the storm -
You're a morsel, we're entrees.

Step up, step back, step off,
Before you get yourself hurt, or worse.
You'll wind up scathed and inside out,
With wounds that even Maya couldn't nurse.

Now set down the quill, step aside, see if Vellis needs your help?
Come back when you can play for real, you silly little whelp.

Penned by my hand on the 20th of Aeguary, in the year 573 AF.