Once upon a midnight dreary, while I rested, weak and weary,
After many a fraught and furious battle with the daeva galore.
In my lap my pomu napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
“’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door-
Only this and nothing more.”
Feeling safe within my abode, the cursed sword of my shadow stowed,
I shut my eyes and allowed myself the rare chance to snore.
For while my weapon is mighty, it can not be handled lightly.
And a drain on my own mana I will surely endure,
Should its thirst for violence not be filled by d