"Don't Be Silly."

The worst mistake made in my youth

was when I failed to live my truth.

I, born a bard, with tune and cheer

gave into shrieking, screaming fear

and, faced with deadly dragon hell

tried wizarding for just a spell.

Of all the ways I've since been cursed,

the boring wizard's was the worst.

"Now don't be silly," the earnest mage,

(unaware this was a curse),

bade me learn the spells of prose

and yield up my bardic verse.

"Don't sing of Gods." The wizard pled, "Some people here could take offense."

"Don't call it magic, either, bard. It's science here, and common sense."

"Don't be silly. Do not play. These songs are not the wizard way."

"Do not toy with stakes so high,"

His solemn countenance advised.

"So honor now that sacred trust,"

his words were old, and sad, and wise.

"You sally forth and you command

your life and others in your hand.

Be serious, and don't go playing

when you're going dragonslaying."

I was desperate to survive,

And so I took him at is word.

I hid my song that made me thrive

And tried to be far less absurd.

What killed me then? I tell you true.

Not the flaming dragon breath,

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

Not that my party broke and ran

When faced with certain crispy death.

The reason that I really died?

I took the man's advice: and lied.

I'm serious, I lied and said

I'll get these spells put in my head

I need no songs, I lied and thought

In naked prose as wizards ought.

I lied away my joy, my mind,

the tunes, the jokes, the repartee

The blowing, farting sound effects

the dancing, prancing revelry,

I lied away the soaring sounds

Inviting me to bravery,

Erasing every bardic tool

that sticks facts into memory.

The sort of art that, if you're clever

Live in mind and soul forever.

And when I charged the dragon's lair,

when I made that fateful run,

of all my hard-earned wizard spells

remembered not a single one.

Of all the ways the I've since been cursed,

'Don't be silly,' is still the worst.

My life is over, yes it's true

and then a spell bade me to rise.

The caster didn't last so long,

much to his (very brief) surprise

Yes it's hellish, it's the worst,

My afterlife has just begun,

I live a death absurdly cursed

in every aspect except one.

I'm silly now. I dance. I play.

I honor bardic rule one.

When this dead bard goes dragonslaying?

This time, I swear. I'm making *fun.*