The aching heart beholds the end of an era,
Like the wine competing with a pint of vodka,
Where will the courtier find the sword of Damoclez?
Is it hidden where legends forego the winner's pledge?
A ten thousand bill is worth some humble pennies,
Like the king Midas, an Emperor or the mendicant?
Why cognac is not worth a diamond chalice,
And hidden the tale of the prince and the tresses,
The doubts snigger and haunts a dreamless soul,
Is an act of living or the contempt being foretold,
When a feather avoids the laconic prose,
And winged horses sweats, drawing a poetic course,
Are the victuals really dropped from heaven,
Or the turkey is sacrificing at the lucifer's carnival,
What pure and what is being disturbed?
Are the laws of power written in the Testament?
Can you touch and tell that is it real?
Or what you feel is the one not a dream,
Are you the navigator or just some actor,
Is this an unseen voyage or a scene in a theatre,
Are the feats and not the tears that count?
Negate the logic, dare to explore the Hermit's mind.
