You Can find this in the Library!

(The Lord Loss Poem)

Lord Loss sows all the sorrows of the world,

Lord Loss seeds the grief-starched trees,

In the center of the web, lowly Lord Loss bows his head,

Mangled hands, naked eyes

Fangled snaked his soul line

Curled inside like textured sin, bloody curdled sheets for skin,

In the center of the web, vile Lord Loss torments the dead,

Over strands of red, Lord Loss crawls

Dispensing pain, despising all,

Shuns friends, nurtures foes,

Ravages hope, breeds woe,

Drinks moons, devours suns,

Twirls his thumb till the reaper comes,

In the center of the web, lush Lord Loss is all that’s left