A Curse For Bliss

A Curse For Bliss

Once on feet I walked but now I creep on paws
Fingers I’ve no longer got, only sharpened claws
Once I ate with the wisest men and went to the finest balls
Now, at night, I stalk the streets and sleep near muddy walls

Bewitched I am, through foolishness my own
Truth they speak – reaped is what is sown
With Torundar the Old I spoke that day
Drunk I was, and so my tongue ran away

A fool, a relic old, unuseful, I told him he was
Angry he became, and spoke after a pause:
“Ye best not talk while, ye idiotic rat
As punishment for this, two months ye’ll be a cat!”

A spell he placed upon me, powerful, no doubt
A black cat I became – couldn’t even shout
Torundar picked me up and threw me to the street
“We’ll see how well ye talk when ye eat old, rotten meat”

Three months I could have lasted, but now it’s been a year
Yet the curse still works and Torundar’s not here…
People talk he lives no more – that he turned to stone
So will I have to live my life like this, so scarily alone?

Even though it’s night, clearly I can see
Even though I’m cold, black fur comforts me
Even though I’m hungry I can always hunt
Even though I’m going mad I am never shunned

People think I’m cute, even if I’m not
Easy shelter is to find and my ills are quick forgot
Sometimes in the square an old lady gives us food
And I with my comrades purr, showing our merry mood

So is this feline life such an awful fate?
Worse a man could do, ‘fore entering Hell’s gate
Fast and quickly now – I’m getting used to this
No worries worry me – such ignorance is bliss