Falling down rhythmically each drop resounds with glee
At harsh thunder’s entry, stopped
Knights made of ivory danced ‘neath black Calvary
War shouts end revelry, abrupt

(Scrambling fate’s hands seek to reshape the strings)

Ships tossing endlessly, the helmsman slumped
Hale thumped NO Glaciers rose from the deep and bumped into the boats

(The hands of fate grow still, their master humming slowly, slumming in oblivion, summing nothings together, becoming slave to empty, empty, silence)


Over smooth waters the knights, through their visors, see,
Straits, where rain falls gently, through the sea

Yet the following tide smashes their ship and pride:
On rocks no lookout spied, crushed.

(Son of a bitch.  I swear this piano’s broken.)