Harlequin's Temper
The Jester approaches the King's gold throne.
A humility that has been shown.
"I grace thy king here upon this stand"
~Seething with rage, about this brand~
He tumbles, and juggles, and humors his grace
A lie foretold on his false face
The jack of clubs, the three of hearts
The one that's shown has many parts
To bear the title of a simple fool
These glamour�s be, his real tool
Approach the castle's living breath
And bequeath a quick and royal death
Step into heaven's firmament
And take the place your dreams have sent
Do not sing the courts own dirge
For a new man has begun to surge
The bringer of laughs to this land
Grasps the scepter with a prince's hand
I raise the crown and lift the ban
Still the fool, but now a man