You deserve more than a few quick dashes of ink, glimpse of waterfall, unrolled upon papyrus and hung to be overlooked,
English contorted into Japanese styling. Especially when you take the trio of you, me, myself and I to task,
speaking to yourselves in such a Zen-like manner: Get out of my Way! The ten thousand things vanish, Ego shivers in the void.
Cold, hard wind of truth knifes through armored illusion, shurikens spun from insomnimaniacal nights, throwing words at the stars.
Sleep and find your peace, you three, dream of wives and salt, the whole Lot of you. Remember you're a pillar of Muse's community.
Only way I could write a Nat-sized poem was to cut it into chopstick-sized pieces. ;) Besides, I have to keep a shiruken handy, in case this inflates a previously punctured ego.