Wedding Bells and Graves
When the soul is mad with pleasure in its youthful years
And enthusiasm gallops broken-reigned;
When the master is asleep, his house attended not
And his children unattended in their play;
When the babes crash o'er the woods like kites on broken strings
And their world is full of marvels unrestrained,
Plays full or broken stringed within their maverick hearts
Both in their equal measure- love and pain.
Then an ugly, brittle voice about the canyon walls
Echoes like a bullet in a name
And each whose name is heard must tread the piper's path
To pass from magic night to broad clear day.
Now, all at once the passion of its youthful years
Is spent like desert wind and in its place
Are erected routines sensible
In fortresses impregnable-
A metred life of wedding bells and graves.