Oh Gods how it stings my soul!
Oh Heavens grant me balm!
Soothe my aching heart from pain
And bring me blessed calm.
I have been dealt a mighty blow
The words, how they rain!
Painful and quick, sharp and low
How will I feel again?

Oh wait, twas only a man
Speaking as if he were wise
Whilst licking his demon's taint
And peering through veiled eyes
If I were of the godly sort
And deemed good enough a saint,
I'd ignore your petty post
And be shocked and near to faint!
But instead, I'm just as labeled
And not about to play nice
And just as likely to fatten your lip
And place on your head a price.

So save your breath and your hand
And put down your blackened quill
Your words mean nothing to this "bitch"
And I doubt they ever will

Penned by my hand on the 20th of Solis, in the year 466 AD.