A letter to Abbas

  • Abbas,

    I know you only just paid for the rhyme to be written but here is my finished product.

    If you are not keen on it let me know and you will be refunded, also, as it was completed as part of a contract it can be considered your own possession and you may alter the words as you see fit.

    Thifur o brave Thifur!
    So bold and hairy a lapdog, one has never seen.
    When Master Hardcastle shouts your name his arse is always clean.
    But when you must see right from wrong, any honour’s always swallowed.
    Your moral code is that of a toad, and the path to gold is followed.

    You dig up a forest for some rocks, your master tickles your belly.
    You eat the scraps from Hardcastles table, even those most smelly.
    But should the poor be needing some aid, your nowhere to be found.
    Because they have, nothing to give, you stay deep underground.

    Your folly shall be, the rocks you mine, are what keep your foe in check.
    The riches you earn, will all mean naught, when the Shadovar are out for your neck.
    You'd sell your grandmother for Hardcastles gold, so desperate to succeed.
    By the time you've regained your kin’s lost home, all that’ll be left is greed.

    Brave Thifur, o’ brave Thifur, when are you going to see.
    That those who you think, aid your path, see nothing but a thug in thee.
    With every action, you prove them right, so blinded by your goal.
    Your ancestors would be ashamed of you, you honourless little troll.

    While we both know who wrote the words I am fine with you taking credit should such be important for your point.


  • Michael,

    This is great! It might have topped even all of Em's songs!
    I won't take credit for it. I'd be killed by the cloak if I did, but I'll leave your name off as well so you see no trouble.
    Know that this was worth far more than the payment you accepted however!
    Well done and thank you.

    ~Abbas yn Hassan il Ibrandul yi Calimport.