Ol' Scratch (in Iambic Poly-verse)

Ol' Scratch, a fine an merry one was he.

In fields so dark he ruled alone .

So grim a fate he cast so fierce

on lonely sod and anguish tree.

With claws and bite for ever more

he draws a blood no costlier found

from hearts a broken and scattered a ground.

Ol' Scratch, who cuts a deeper wound

than  sword or knife or tongue has he.

Ol' Scratch,  who knows thy shaming now

yet holds it back, a blade so precise

for your soul he doth debase.

Ol' Scratch.