A witness watching with quill in hand
Looking at the destruct wrought by Light
Yet firm in the soil do I here stand
Against all odds and overwhelming might
For all the forms they wish to engage
Poets they fight not with their sword
As if expecting to be upstaged
Taking to their quills, posting to the board
It is the irony they fail to see
With earnest hearts, protecting Creation
That Choas is what they truly seed
All but obvious to those of their nation
Above all they stand, watching blood as it pools
Can they not see that they are truly the fools?

Penned by my hand on the 9th of Glacian, in the year 644 AF.