“September, be good to this old king,
He who hath lost his way.
I have traveled so far, sans everything,
Lost his darling daughters to lions called men,
And was impeached by my wife and brother.
I was kicked out of the heaven I made,
And now traverse the land I built for them.
But they spit at my crown,
And I had to abandon my gold cloak,
For some food and rub my face with dirt,
To lessen the scowls I received from my subjects.
I am alone and I am unloved,
So tell me September,
Will you be good to me now?”