Song for a play

Bones and stones

and rock and pebbles

Here I stand

Sound and reckless

 

Read the words

Of the bearded bard

Here I stand

Off the map, a la carte

 

Thunder rolls

The paddock calls

Doubtful I stand

Blackened stone walls

 

The second murderer speaks

Imperfection still to the core

Never at ease

Not ever any more

 

They may stem off illusion

Creating confusion

Dare never to venture

Too near the censure

 

Break it off now, before it spoils

Broken words, take a bow, towards the foils

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