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 ^{(it's beta!)}

I saw a girl with amber eyes, A copper bangle on each wrist This beggar dancing in my path Did sell her soul to lore and myth Such rapture could this gypsy stage! Exploding dulcet promises Her steadfast faith near eased my qualm Perusing ancient hieroglyphs. Her mantra read like prose, I mused if this she freely chose Her voice leapt such as fireworks might: Fuchsia! Jade! Navajo white! Against the teal of eve it cracked, Her pyre fierce and I: polite As battle fields adumbrate mines, Her verse I almost did requite:- ‘Mind my act and hear my tongue. These vibrant hooks will quench dry vines’ But, kindly I declined her truth An empty truth. A peasant’s feast. To you this truth I shan’t bequeath - For those who tarry falter least. And so I flew west - Then forward for a thousand years A thing of steel with laser eyes did talk, But not of good or bad. He told me that ‘To prophesise Romantic thoughts make humans mad!’ He spoke only of facts and all That held a mass, Regardless of its state or class. A talent (mind, a lonely bore.) And Descartes truly thought us ill For not defining sense as lies Our world of dust is fiction Divorcing hairs: An ash of diction For every thought, we’ll cry a name But surely one would favour cries Then one might diagnose their pain With words In place of homeless blame Our nouns might court with grammar And kiss And sit upon a shelf A marriage bound through stammers So one can comprehend one’s self. The battle ceasing to be won I watch and wonder in despair Each opponent obdurate: The frugal and the chivalrous, Neither satisfy my fate. Still, they crusade : weak, forlorn- To entertain they must debate. This wisdom doesn’t bring me wealth Nor verity. I live distraught! Our means of being: stale mate. Fearing all that we are taught.