94 words, 16 lines
form: common-measure quatrains
a terrible fate’s in power now
its fingerprints I couldn’t spot
but I know that curved signature
it belongs to me on the dot
anosmia* had I to shame’s stench
since I played for fortune and fame
nearsighted, I couldn’t discern
villain’s folly, my flagrant game
many selves had I to manage
while disaster was on the way
the lightning hit at story’s end
a life wide open and astray
a terrible fate’s in power now
its fingerprints I couldn’t spot
but I know that curved signature
it belongs to me on the dot