The Temple and the Palace

I saw a man
Living in a palace
of gold
and ripe fruit
and all the finery of earthly things
Surrounded by attendants
and concubines
and jestsers



I saw a crowd
With not a single face
Everywhere a sea of masks
and enamored robes


and gloves and gold and jewels





I heard a song
a cacophonous noise
Birthed by a never-ending festival
of dim lights
and hapless games
and riddles without answers
and the monotonous drone of mirthless laughs

It is a sad, annoying little noise






I saw the man
at the center of it all
Weighed down by crowns and masks deceptions of all sorts

Sitting on a daimond throne






I held a paper sword
with writings absurd and wise
It cut down the guests
the party-goers
the attendants
the despairing celebrants
It cut away the drapes and gold
It chopped to bits the masks

The diamond throne shattered with fright






The whole damned palace came tumbling down
But how could such a thing stand anyway?
built as it was around the temple of the living God
And how could I stand to not cut it down?
when I saw that under the masks and robes
I had ordered its construction