Ironbeard I loathe you
True at first I thought a myth
But then I saw you swagger in
...to give someone else a gift

Yet here I sit believing now
Sure, you do exist

But all month long I've moped along
And quite frankly, I am pissed

How I love to see the faces of all of my friends
As you hand them gift and gold and swaying leave again
But now I sit, drink in hand, and realize something true
I drink for lack of gifts received
....is it the same for you

So despite my drunken loathing, friend
I realize now your woes
So with a drunken, humble bow
I gift you with my prose



Ike Grysanovich


Penned by my hand on the 19th of Vita, in the year 618 AD.