Majesty never yelps carelessly
For there lies much adultery in disorder
At the gates,the sages sit
Waiting for the youth who shall falter
And meddle into the things of the deep.
On their shoulders sit the lampstand
Which grace their appearance with pain
But in their deepest dreams and nightmares
They wish that infants
Shall be taught their place
Away from the lofty
To the playground.