The watcher walks along the wired paths
Along the edges of existence
Before the clouds were formed
Ideas were material
floating like gases in the vapidity
parliaments of disaster
paraded with the dead ponies
and all along the birthday path
the lyrical content kept ringing
we spoke of worse times when the district
was abandoned by the solemn figures
the cloaked selected ones
standing in a circle
their judgment clings to walls
drifting melody
cradled by thumbs