Upon thy window sill a pigeon alights, A bearer of news from afar lands and sights. From foreign shores, I send my plea, To thee, my Guild Master, hear from me.
In the heat of battle, side by side, We faced our foes, with hearts open wide. Your voice, Guild Master, steady and clear, Guiding us through every fear.
Ensnared within the foul malady's grasp, I remain bedridden, in this enduring clasp. No monsters slain, no loot to gather, Just me and my tissue box, in a rather sad lather.
Still abroad, I roam a distant way, Yet yearn for home, where my heart does stay. In the midst of foreign lands I stray, But hope to return to thee one day.
So let this missive be a token, Of memories shared, and bonds unbroken. Though distance parts, our spirits soar, In tales of valor, forevermore
