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O GoldToken, thou radiant orb of play,
Whose circuit spans the globe with friendly light,
A dream made flesh in digital array,
Where minds engage in peaceful rivalry.
From every clime and tongue, the players come,
With wit and mirth and noble stratagem,
To meet upon the board in games well wrought,
Where chance and skill in equal measure strive.
Imperium, my crowned field of fame,
Where I, through trial fierce and cunning moves,
Have risen to the summit, number one!
Yet Ludo, humbler path, eludes my grasp
A jest I bear with mirth, not pride undone.
For every game, though won or lost, bestows
The joy of contest and the bond of play.
Ye stewards of the site, whose unseen hands
Maintain the realm with care and constancy,
Admins and clubwardens, I sing your praise.
Your labors, though oft silent, shine like stars
That guide our course and keep the night at bay.
To you, my thanks, profound and manifold.
And to my fellow players, brave and kind,
Who shared the board and bore the dice with grace,
I lift my voice in tribute: Ye are bright,
Companions true, whose brilliance lights the game.
Long may we meet in sport and friendly strife,
Till time itself resigns the final turn.