Tale of the Cup

Through windstorms, across scorching sands you limped and crawled, you cried and begged as a weakened friend for food and drink; So in my tent for days we dined and drank and sang to health and life but then I erred, in just a blink I slumped down sick, I lost, I rued, my cup, the wine I should have checked, tried defying dying, but too late. You shrewd plunderer, ghastly thief, oh, my dimming eyes craved to kill, but could only furiously hate. As real as a true deception, authentic as an illusion, a loathsome scavenger no less, you, traitorous desert scorpion, I swear there in hellish Hades I shall tear you down to pieces!