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