The hour is dread late, by the castle clock
And milady seems to have lost her frock
As she goes on her bed-hither walk
In search of the visiting cockerel, and his…sock— Ed Greenwood (@TheEdVerse) March 1, 2022
The lord you seek? You are too late
They spiked his head above the gate
And cooked his guts all yesternight
To feed to his last faithful knight
Who, pale and spewing, rode hard away
So if you’d be a lord, throne’s still warm; please stay— Ed Greenwood (@TheEdVerse) March 2, 2022
The night is chill, the gibbet bare
So whence comes the whisper that curses doth speak?
Doth a ghost drift on the dark air?
It promises me a future bleak
Let me a more cheerful serenader seek— Ed Greenwood (@TheEdVerse) March 4, 2022