The messenger sprinted softly,
His toes barely touching the ground,
His shoulder bag floating behind him,
As he reached the castle without a sound,

He opened the door with his shoulder,
Looked in and saw a silhouette,
Wisps of smoke swirling to the ceiling,
As they puffed on a cigarette,

He dropped the bag and ran as told,
But it thudded on the marble floor,
He'd never live to find what it contained,
As a gunshot started the next world war.