Through the maze of time I thread,
Even in the darkest hour,
It was a box of dream,
I opened and what a site it was,
It was an oracle of augury,
A plenitude of arpeggio,
And amidst this realm of melodies,
And the plethora of ecstasy,
There was sorrow, hatred, deceit,
And with a feeling of dismay,
I asked my self,
What an augury of ecstatic sadness?
An unpredictable region of byzantine.