There is no use in idle play
For the draconian way will fill
A void unheeded by Mother's milk
Sustaining those serpents born to bilk
Before they **** you and your soul dry
To climb up that misty mountain high
With three cheers and a soluble dream
An awareness that pulsates in seams
Shows currency can not be eaten
When everything else has been beaten

in this climb
you were blind
so i held out
in high hopes

we fought hard
we sold well
but you fell
the way down
to low death

Found in a rather balmy condition
It was inside such an ornate structure
Where she lived, washed her spirits
Down basins of verity

The glare of mimosa shined
Onto decorative butterflies
And their spirits did flutter
In her rather delicate frame
For there was uncertainty
On where to go?
And what to do?

T'was out of the wash
And into the sun
Sounds of a piano beckoned
From the saratoga valleys
Into darkening mikados
She had found salvation
At a quaint destination
Through communal melodies
From a young collective
Though not all in body
But rather in spirit
They held each others hands
In hopes that their souls
Would find a release

On that mulberry night
We had whirled around
The marigold light

Oh, how it found
Your porcelain face
Beyond formality
Adorning the guests
In evening clothes

So we cheered to enrichment
Of good times
And good ideas
For there was nothing we feared
Entrenched in acclaim
As all the others
Danced to forget their shame