A Nightmare of Conjugations

[deckardcanine]

Down the country road we drove
Until we finally arrove
At an eerie cottage long forgotten.
Would this visit be regrotten?
With the tools that we had bought,
We then ensured the lock was prought.
Moving softly, no one spoke.
I pushed the door; it slightly croke.
Upon our tiptoes, in we crept
And into every corner pept.
Was this the place for what we sought?
We didn’t see when first we pought,
But soon we had a candle lit;
We looked around and were delit:
A treasure chest on which was written,
“For the poor”? We felt invitten!
Opening the chest, we found
A hundred coins that nearly blound
Us with a golden light that shone
Like no plain ore that’s ever mone!
We didn’t know how that was made
But didn’t care; our claims were stade—
Alas, for that was when we heard
A booming voice whose words we feard:
“You thieves who’ve broken in and stolen
From the poor will now be dolen
Harshly with before you’re slain.
I think I’ll have you scorched and flain.”
To put it mildly, we were shaken:
Such effects aren’t eas’ly faken.
Once the shock wore off, I ran
Outside, jumped in the truck and gan
The engine, but my friends had fallen
On the ground. I was appallen.
Suddenly, where they had lain,
The ground was vacant! Had they dain?
From the truck seat I had risen
(What I did is ill-advisen).
Could I help? No, I was caught!
My greatest nightmare had been maught!
…In fact, I had the whole thing dreamt,
And none of us was getting creamt.
I guess if there’s a lesson taught,
It’s that some loot must not be raught.