If it were within our power,

beyond the reach of slavish pride.

To no longer harbour grievances,

behind the mask's opportunists facade.

We could welcome the responsibilty

like a long lost friend,

and re-establish the kingdom of laughter

in the dolls house once again.

For time has imprisoned us

in the order of our years,

in the discipline of our ways

and in the passing of momentary stillness

we can view our chaos in motion

and the subsequent collisions of fools

well versed in the subtle art of slavery.