See the soaring of the king,
The diaties rejoyced when they saw the ring.

He finds it hard to see the snake,
Overshadowed by the wrong ache.

Who is that snapping near the biscuit?
I think she'd like to eat the brisket.

She lookes to be but a grey queen,
Admired as she sits upon a tourmaline.

Her wretched mind is Nachash,
It needs no food, it runs on sabot.

She's not alone she brings a net,
a pet wolf, she feigning shock at the threat.

The wolf faced a semi-stupor choice,
For long ago, they had taken his voice.

The king shudders at the sight through the nebel
He want to leave but she wants the jebel.