You begged of me if this I’d give
The exquisite life you dreamt you’d live-
Possessions that in greed would gleam.

Small one, forgive my giving in
For I knew when I gave what lay within
That now in my stead found you, it seems.

The choice is chance and horsehair fine
Unfit for so fragile a kind
As yours, sweet child of perfect dreams.

For what sustenance in pretty things
Reveals what you must do?
Does the power that resides in kings
In your mind flourish too?
Dwell not on that which cannot be
Just know, my dear sweet Damocles,
The blade that in the balance swings
I never meant for you.

back to the highway that never ends