| Dear Lords and Ladies of the Flame |
| I've come to you for aid, |
| I've a strange and sickly fever |
And it makes me much afraid.
|
| I believe that it first started |
| When Tylia I did meet, |
| For I felt a warm sensation |
From my head down to my feet.
|
| When I come into her presence |
| My cheeks turn fiery red, |
| For all the blood I carry |
Seems to rush into my head.
|
| When from her I'm parted, |
| I cannot concentrate. |
| My thoughts they wander here and there, |
It happens oft of late.
|
| I used to sleep quite soundly |
| Upon my bed at night, |
| But now I fret and toss and turn |
Until the morning light.
|
| I also used to gorge myself |
| I'd a hearty appetite, |
| But now I don't feel hungry |
And I hardly touch a bite.
|
| I went to see a healer |
| And explained to him my plight, |
| He told me just to take some pills |
And said I'd be all right.
|
| I'm sure he was a charlatan, |
| The pills did me no good, |
| My condition went from bad to worse |
As I feared it would.
|
| And so I wrote this message |
| In the hope that you might know, |
| From the symptoms I've described above |
| What is it ails me so? |
