In deceitful supplications,
lips slick with libations,
came most foul,
a prickly fowl,
to peck out all frustrations.


With ebon eyes a'wanton,
and cruelest smiles a'flaunted,
just a taste,
of grubs misplaced,
neath her wings, undaunted.


Lost in smoke by hookah,
mistaken for a hooker,
gams were shown,
and covers blown,
before her plot could snooker.

Penned by my hand on Kinsday, the 18th of Haernos, in the year 491 MA.