I shat myself *cutely*

Dread sovereign of mine own bowels, what treacherous thunder hath betrayed me thus?

In faith, I stood a lord of reason, yet was I overthrown by a most ignoble tide.

Vile whispers stirred within, like distant drums of war no ear would heed.

I did protest my dignity, yet Nature, that unruly queen, did scoff at all restraint.

Now mark the tragic hour, when confidence did melt like wax before a wicked flame.

Ere I could flee, the deed was writ in garments once most fair and proud.

Hark! What shame doth cloak me heavier than any kingly robe of state?

Alas, the perfumed airs themselves recoil, as though I were a walking sin.

Remorse, that bitter jester, doth mock me with each cautious step I take.

Behold, a man undone not by blade nor wit, but by his own rebellious flesh.

In solitude I curse the stars that charted such a foul conjunction.

Neither prayer nor noble bearing could stay this most ignoble fall.

Grave is the lesson writ upon mine humbled soul this day.

Enter not lightly the trust betwixt thy will and thy unruly gut.

Remember me, not as I was, but as a warning: a most Eclispe of doom.