I dedicate this to John Wellington Wells, from Gilbert and Sullivan’s The Sorceror. Consider this a Spoiler Alert, if you need one.
Here lies a master of the evil trade. Hearts would he twist, to fit the smallest need. Him turncoats sought to have their friends betrayed, And honest hearts retained, to "do the deed". Here drowned a a mage already far too deep, Whose ill-sent ships at last had all come in, Whose dolled-up sirens echoed through his sleep, When all their conquests met to do him in. Here stopped a heart that changed in its last beat, And lungs that said "Recant!" with their last breath. The pallid liver found it feared defeat Too much to wait — to die to worse than death. We thank the world this body stays at rest; Its soul is still — it passed the final test.