He is not mad
His thought is clearer than
The saner man
For in her he saw
Beauty overflowing
Through the tattered clothes
She was his queen
She is a queen
In dreams he
Wanders the dark
In search of her
***
He was patient
Slow descent, chills the bones
His wait maybe long
Still he carries on
Always reaching for her
Always breathing for her
Lifting his hand to the sky
Slow change might bring
Holy tears
Upon his battered skull
