Dream, a wisp of fancy, flight
Of whimsy night be night,
A way down the hall a
Festive ball looking onto
From outside the arena,
A tall castle spire,
From under, now,
The figures dancing how I envy
Their grace their gowns and smiles the festooned
Caronas like crowns I imagine bestow beauty and power,
Just me prying eyeward between
Cracks in the wall
How beauty agrandizes
Those few chosen ones.
You who don't need to grovel,
Beg or steal
Those whose only need might be.
Their will
And who is to say they don't
Deserve it. How am I to judge
Their seeming divinity.
All I know, is I'd give a **** to know which type of God made it.
And go to my grave,
Cursing