Master of Winter & Servant of Fall

Fuzzy doorbell, Shivering, cowering little mongrel Why do you feel the chill that autumn brings, and attack the leaves that want to pet you? The pumpkins light up and grin, much happier in their world than you Its disappointing--- that they should earn a higher perch upon the step, While you, lonely you, are bound to that iron peg down there Will you fetch the children? Eagerly stretch out the length of rope only to return in defeat Do they even desire you anymore, bastard pup? The faded color of your coat betrays you now your callused tongue is no more treat, for a growing child and strange hands that visit now hold many tricks Learn your place speak when company comes Hold. Adore your tether. Be not the link that breaks them, or you will not eat Search your dish, be silent and find it bare They will remember you in time when days pass, with hollow minutes, and hungry seconds Raise your voice, howl, and slaver at each leg that dares to climb the stairs You are the first sentry, a talisman that bars the door Cold wind does not excuse a raw throat, whenever footsteps approach Because you are the feral doorbell, that chimes whenever they walk through the sacred yard Be proud, the master knows your voice well, remind him as your rusty chains mark your place in this world and the next.