The jester drove the king mad in three nights. He waited for the royal snores, opened the trapdoor under the royal bed, and recited bad poetry in perfect mimicry of the king’s dead mother’s voice.
…— Ed Greenwood (@TheEdVerse) April 24, 2018
It came for me in my dream
Claws dark, fangs long, hunger in its lone eye
I fled, frantic, panting, yet ever it did seem
To be right behind me, always smilingly nigh
Until morning, when it just…faded, I deem
Yet it’s not forever gone, and…I fear soon I’ll die— Ed Greenwood (@TheEdVerse) April 24, 2018
