On a night all dark and dreary,
Amidst the servants of a business bum,
Crept a shadow of many names
Of which many have fallen to it's crafty touch.
Weeding out those who are hated
And those who abuse their welcome.
It glided past those of no concern
To attain it's objective before dawn
And be out before the deed is unveiled
Or more will fall,
Never to rise again.
This bum shall fall-
The seed has been planted.
As his lips touch his golden goblet-
He shall tempt the Faceless One,
Of Whom all shall meet and not tell,
It will be a job well done.