And after this I had to close my hand

Upon the dream, dried up like midday sand

Caught up by this wind

Tallied as too thin


The stars would shift and wait for reckoning

Outlast the count, return to heckling

Eyes that close to soon

Only count the moon


Chances are

Chances after all

Masters far

Matter when they call


The curtain rose, we played the rebel’s part

The veil wore thin, or it was ripped apart

Spotlights penitent

Turned to where they’re meant


All shall be well and ah-all—shall be well

All manner of things shall be as well

Bring the ghosts to dance

In this last romance