THE BUT
The Past the sung but unclear
The knot so hard unbreakable
The notes lovely not at times
Still the Present does adore the steps!
Rung a thousand tunes afresh
The dawn anew and fragrant neo!
The count never ends my dear!
The spells alive loud and bold!
The Present does dribble into the Past-
No rather flow at times, cascade
Roll trickle or ooze. Pour surge
Rush gush, sweep self to the Doom!
Sweet the singing sweeter than ever!
O My Dear, carefree not I am!
The ambiguity is the curse, yet
There is the But the Rescuer!
