I step softly and walk as a ghost / on my way to speak at the transients ball / where no one will stop to listen / watch the silent rails foreward advance / to places no one watches / I cry at the call of a humble mans glory / and finish speaking when I stop listening / I no longer stop to see who is screaming / work there is cheap / handed out by bandits dressed in black lace garters / leaving causulties in the wake of their taking / I look for old friends in the faces of the clouds that are approaching / holding on to the tatterd standards of glory / sit down at the places where music was once playing / pieces of comfort are strewn in the roadway / pray that all is not lost / when the last soul is sent / bandits with bandoliers loaded with intrusion come knocking / fully equipped but unprepared / to strike at the plastered shadows triumphs / from stalling the ancient’s fruitless calls of experience / telling you time will strain your will and enlightenment / “you may live here” in this ordered stall / “but you may not live lively” . Azab
