A Most Humble Abode
Who is it that knocks on my door?
It is nearly midnight and not a single creature stirs about
Yet, I hear a faint tapping of feet upon my cedar floor
Assuredly, my mind lends to perception, a sense of doubt
Lo, a man stands before me
His hands very much contused
In better light, I come to observe the somber face I see
A broken man indeed, very much confused
I extended to the visitor, a kind greeting
One, of a most humble nature
The ailing man appears to have received some sort of beating
Perhaps he was involved in an unsettled wager?
This guest of mine spoke clearly now, and his words were of fright
The man was my brother, whom I attended to on this dreadful night
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