What a pity
That such gibe
Is to occur
In a mere
Reverie.
Mendicant souls sit
On a murky street
Where lithe dancers
Perform a melancholic number.
The visage glows a dark gray
Which even a jester's motley
Cannot paint over.
Odious color taints
The actors and actresses
A morose brown and yellow.
How shameful
That such gibe
Appears
In a mere
Reverie.
Perfidious noblemen
Sleepwalk
Through antediluvian schedules,
And noisome poets
Author soporific elegies.
The tapestries are marked
With a blue hue
That even a queen's scepter
Is unable
To banish the sadness.
Mundane shades
Dye the carpet
A pernicious maroon
Mixed with regicide.
