Alone the black sheep caries his thorns,
Through thick thickets thin skin is torn,
The hooded king garbed in golden rings,
Wears his hood to hide his horns,
The quick snip of sharpened scissors,
No more sheep are to be born,
One quick flick of the match,
Candle burning furiously,
One cloud of smoke vapor swirling in the air turbulent,
One moment and misty spark fades into empty space,
Wind blows through new time is here you are quickly replaced,
Left now but empty sketches on an ancient pad,
You are too quickly erased