My pen is dying. See how splotchy and uneven the ink has become? Here I regretfully mourn its passing. Just look at all the stained pages it has helped me through! Together we've surmounted godhood and struck pure, cerebral bliss.
I have overused my faithful friend and here he spits his last. Let this be your epitaph, my bosom brother. You will be replaced, but remembered. I write this with you to you as you die. It is a last salute to your loyalty. True, your replacement lays idly by, mocking you, but know that it too will be brought as low as you one day. And on that day it will understand.
Now I bid you farewell as I set your broken body to rest. You have pleased your master and may go to your god with my blessings.
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