When vision of the kingdom darkens
A call to rest echoes in halls of men.
The comforts of the evening nether harken
For to lengthy sleep we’re called again.
We shall not argue with the calling;
We shall not raise a blade to fight;
Instead our bodies start their falling
Into the cold embrace of night.
“Must this end in such a manner”
Asks my voice, naive and weak.
“Obey my call”, says the lady of the manor
And so follows the man, exhausted, meek.
Thus was my evening when my wife said
“Turn off Return of the King and come to bed.”
The Daily Travesty 