There is no merriment in our legend
a disparate history obliges,
like dust clouds we succumb
to a threadbare desert caravan.
Once we encountered happiness it outshone
even the azure skies
but recklessly we back slid
into the  vested nothingness.
We sated on Alpha
her eagerness was renown
but the locusts came yonder
and with Bet famished
scorned with the wind.