1:
Tame like the soul of a baby,
The sky holds its own above me –
Portraying blissfulness,
Virtue,
Untarnished beauty;
As I stare up to it
And become entranced by its presence.
2:
The ringmaster cracks his whip,
The captain salutes the sky,
The king holds up a fist,
The knight his almighty sword,
The president takes a bow,
The queen a wave of her hand.
Though I sit back,
Tilt my head and ask myself:
When will this madness end?
