When the embers fell
The once damp went sere
By a tune severe
From a pyre's spell.

Then the mirk crossed swords
With a Warlock's flame,
And the six-string dame
Loudly scorched the hordes.

Alas, the shames were tall!
Till a pick struck fears
In the deaf's dead ears...
And their pride shrank small.


Based on following artwork by me (click to enlarge if wanted):