Dot

Dot maketh a man blind, beware of the outcome
’tis a drought, fandangle dingus
maketh a relationship, acerbic as rum
’tis not an espousal, ’tis a fungus

Humans , worshipers of everything
Gods, demons or a fane
find occurrences to dance, and sing
a merry song written by the bride that is dead

Laud the groom for his kingly stratagem
thou art foolish, methinks
thine foolishness will ingest the mankind
in no time, entire world will shrink

Dot indites a mephitic story
expounds its frail glory.

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