Fawkes

Recall a winding path through a singing forest, dappled with golden beams of memory and tiny slivers of tea cup;

Surely tread in unsure circles by the hooves of a thousand gods and queens, nations unto themselves;

Gambling away their precious minds for tender morsels of bliss and love, waltzing ever onward towards that

timeless clearing beneath the city of gold, in the laughing wood, where madness sleeps.

What a lovely day in the neighborhood~