Festival Performer

What breed is this? Sage or Lunatic, Chess-Piece or Bard. Do they see silver in the bloodstream, hearts pumping hard. Turning lead to gold. Re-frabricating a life lived hard. Pieces of eight, to pay for a life of piracy? Or innocense stolen, seeking equilibrium and sanity? Do they have knowledge to pass on, an altruism of animal, magnetism, a charged badge of honor, crested in heart, emboldened home-sheath, sleeve to cry, then hone your metal upon. What propels them on? Is it the real Olympus, clear,_- Mountain Dew? Atlantis estranged in Camelot, pouring rivers by the light of the moon? What propels, which witch is the spark? Is it one of Union and Love. Or did they lose the game and menace for vengeant troves, of the dark. Do they Familiar the con of silver, alchemy, mesmerism for the greedy? I want to believe they are rivulets caroming among the needy. So I wonder. Do they speak in a different tongue? One that reaches out like a serpent, feeling for the vermilion colored heat under the Son. It is true, one is the saddest thing. Reach out, it is the Festival Season starring a Carnival of Souls. Stars, not so far out. North shining to a ship of fools. Saints and Angels, under the sleeve of the Triune One. Of this I have no doubt.