When Hamelin town refused to pay
The Piper for his song that day,
A warning whispered on the breeze:
Be wary when you break decrees.
His tune had driven rats away,
And yet, the town would not repay—
They mocked the man who held the flute,
Forgetting how his charm took root.
With bitter smile and eyes of fire,
He raised his pipe, the notes climbed higher.
The children followed, soft in prance,
Enthralled with every step, each dance.
To hills and mountains, far from sight,
They vanished in the fading light.
No gold, no plea could bring them back,
For debts unpaid leave lasting lack.
So heed this tale of Hamelin’s plight:
Be true in word, or lose the light.
For promises, once left to stray,
May lead what’s dear so far away.
2024 ©️
The Royal Octopus 