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Written by Godfrey Bletch
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Faint murmurings like wispy lace
Are swirling round my brain
I arch my neck and lift my face
To feel the pouring rain
I drink the acid water pure
Then belch a dragons flame
I'm angry, and there is no cure
A rage I cannot tame
Who are these foe who meekly plot
With whispers of my doom
They are so rancid, full of rot
I must not give them room
Will I fight for ever more
These fiends I cannot spy
Or will I find a distant shore
Where in peace I'll lie
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