so much is wanted but what we must ask is for the measure that cannot be told by ordinary creatures at their task of making worlds to fit the human mould beyond the which we could not be consoled but asked for pity and received no share of what was paid except this empty air so turning we discerned no further bar to our escaping save a simple stair the crescent mirror and the morning star
you give a good account behind your mask of where the trail was good and where just cold no warmth remains except within the flask nor any honour that's not paid with gold right on the table where the hearts are sold while every victim hears the case is fair and yet the axe does not strike unaware there's no part of the process that's bizarre while far above our unbowed heads there stare the crescent mirror and the morning star
in balmier times we might hope to bask in the approval of the good and bold enjoy the plaudits while we broach the cask and wonder why a single voice would scold instead the angry lessons are unrolled as every back is loaded down with care nor is there chance of freedom anywhere that foolish interlopers hope to mar beyond the chances of the normal player the crescent mirror and the morning star
prince in the end you won't respond to prayer as no petition has the sort of flair to touch the souls of palace and bazaar yet you must go to where the boldest dare the crescent mirror and the morning star