a year and a day

the golden hay

with waving heads grew tall

the wind from the east

encourages wandering feet

to leap over the wall

the westward star

begat a son

whose hands were bleeding red

from berries he had plucked from thorns

which poisoned others dead

he had the largest soulful eyes

filled with the greatest woe

"I couldn't stop them"

he said to me

in so morose a tone,

the bones of fools and jesters lay

beneath the ashen dome

"that last joke was a killer!"

the duke, he said to me

with an elbow in my side

next to the ebony tree

it's fingers skretched, and scritched, and stretched

towards the silent sky

the gray faced boy confronted me

crimson smeared amok

you have to warn them

they have to know

"Be careful who you fuck."