These clues I’ll seek, shouting in confidence
That what I’ve found isn’t beyond my skill.
Excellence mistaken for insolence;
Through palace façade I must find the kill.
When drones my friend John endlessly to me
My concentration does wither away.
How quivers he like an angry blind bee
To pray I keep my deduction at bay.
Drunk on murder and impertinent scheme
I forged a great plan with my compassion,
Thy wellness I did not rejoice or beam
For love I have a miniature ration.
But I rose to greet my best friend anon,
Make no mistake, Watson, the game is on.
