In her sacred seat atop the hills
She whiles away the days
Amongst the blooming daffodils
Where all but love decays

From my lonely room, I gaze without
To view the starlit skies
Smog invades and obscures the route
Hope withers, then dies

Tinged with tinctures of delight
Her lilting voice beguiles
Her words betray keen foresight
Her lips betray a smile

Harsh, from bemoaning every trial
That Fortune throws my way
I frown, secure, in obdurate denial
And my frown is here to stay

Weaver of Fates, what madness took you
To thus unite our threads
To banish the solace and the virtue
Of solitude from our heads

Whence will come the resolution
Of dissonance with clarity
Of unity with dissolution
Of Ego with charity?

Why force two opposites together
When both stay wilfully apart
Why bind two souls with one tether
When only one contains a heart?

Were it your will to end this game
It would be over in a trice
But you persist, and you’re alone to blame
God, alas, plays dice.


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