In darkened halls where secrets bloom,
The sharpest mind eclipses doom.
For cunning thrives where brute force fades,
A dance of shadows, masks, and blades.

With every step in twisting paths,
The clever fox outplays the wrath,
Of roaring lions, fierce and blind,
Lost in a labyrinth, confined.

The whispered word, the silent scheme,
The power lies not in the dream,
Of breaking bones or wielding steel,
But in the web, unseen, we feel.

The poisoned cup, the twisted tale,
The clever hand will never fail,
To turn the key in hidden locks,
Unseen by those with stronger stocks.

In games of wits, where shadows play,
The clever rule, the foolish fray,
For in Corruption's subtle art,
The mind outshines the strongest heart.

Thus wisdom's touch, both soft and cold,
Will always trump the muscle bold,
For in the realm where power turns,
The cunning fox, the knowledge earns

Penned by my hand on Falsday, the 9th of Sapiarch, in the year 6 AC.