Butler

Like a butler with affluence in an experiment of own creation, Counting the amount of celluloid before any fireworks is triggered, I gnawed the vapour that was an outcome of a prolonged moan, And, held a long serge scarf wanting to place it gently over an open mouth. Scavenger with an open scull letting my brain be picked, By mocking the Trinity and the four horsemen with cascades of rippled water, But fortunately not having enough courage to confront the world. Like the last pagan king who decided to save all, and what he could By blowing a heap of sawdust into the ponds of innocence, Sire, I’ve entered the realm of handcrafted curse, Seeing all the bouncy fillies, many, one, none, As an immortal faith rained down pebbles of doubt and strife, My inner sparrows made swift passes between the ears, Bare clean, very lean, moving onto the essence of what one sees as real in life.