A Tale Foretold (A multiversed limerick)

There once was a tale foretold

Of a man who was of old

And his trusty old fiddle

And the songs he would whittle

Of which were made of pure gold

His songs brought beautiful joy

To even the smallest boy

Adults and children would view

The man who's heart was quite true

And songs that weren't a bit coy

The notes would dance graciously

Across the world flawlessly

The man would stand up and shout

Until his final account

In which his heart stopped quickly

The adults would cry all day

And children would miss him play

The wind would carry nothing

To all of his fans waiting

For his final notes display

There once was a tale foretold

Of a man who was of old

And his trusty old fiddle

And the songs he would whittle

Of which were made of pure gold