I

Honor from that of a fowl heart
Crimson and gold-silver bells shrill
Fools delight in drunken birth
Moonlit jasmine and sapphire glow
billowing pillars of smoke from towns below
Merry and gay is the festival-parade
from farther land come, beautiful delicate maids
Hustling steps to the garden square
gray stone now wet from decline of care

Marionettes sway with colorful strings of joy
Shakespearean theater a play of fools
making their toasts to crystal jewels
Chapels painted star of David so bright
yet they stray banished from glorious light
Catacombs shake, a hungry soul stirs
come now the widows of savage earth

Reflect, yes ponder upon shallow grave
a house with no sun, yet fierce is the shade
Piercing, Scorching the turn of the blade
laughter now fades on fools darkest day

                                II

For the singer of song, sings unlike that of the bird
Howling sheds tears, unpleasant-Forever heard
Outlasting that of the harp which David played
Increasing with time like a judgmental plague
If the halo shines bright, on but a few who wed
the blues played by all men who fear life then dead
Silver string and black is the heart
Heaven and creation so far-Far apart
take note of the artist-metronome of pain
Keeping the rhythm with Fools darkest day.