In a tapestry of colored roses;
The one who holds the pen yields the greatest power;
The one who listens when no else will;
Will be the one who senses the turning of the wheel;
The one who watches the blade turn against the sword-maker;
Will be the one who knows a lie will turn against the liar;
While the world swings on a silver thread;
We’ll wait for the parody to play out its tragic end.
On a night when all is silent, the lucid mind speaks in riddles most would not understand.
The madman and the harlequin will clap in delight at our bewilderment; all the while laughing at our foolishness.
They will dance in little circles and they will dance under the moonless sky; they will take a bow when the last show is over and they will know it for a travesty.
The beast was here all along…