Out flew those crafty words,
as a bee searching its sweet drink.
And it seemed to make no return,
unless fostered some nominal pangs.
It slithered away as a snake,
intending to maim, sting and devastate.
The soul of a tranquil man,
with unending agony and ache.
So beware before you enounce,
for you reap for the words once uttered.
Even a hundred years after,
its blemish would be left unfaded.