A Memory
1A.
A butterfly is on the wing;
It has set fate upon a child.
All the earth will have to sing,
And the world shall be meek and mild.
Valerie is humming, and singing in a choir;
Drifting ever slowly down the Seine.
Seeking a greater depth to the murk and mire.
2. Across the depths of the floating glass, and a heavenly reflection is cast by rain. People are smiling and singing, black petals fall into the seine.
1B.
Her voice is a clarion call, from an angel that can beguile the rain.
Looking outwards over Paris,
She hums the tune of the young men.
A young man weeps from his terrace, gazing through immense sin.
The world is weeping evermore,
The trumpets are evermore, marking the score.
2B.
I look upon ivory and metal,
Twisting around a mortal coil.
I see a writing mass of vision,
Through the eyes of man deep in depression.
3.
What is the heaven that we have found,
What is it that should seek me?
Is it enough that we have drowned,
In the waste of every fortune we
see?

What is it that should seek me?
That should toil, likewise, upon this coil?
In the waste of every fortune we see,
What is the abhorrence of the upper class, that begrudged a prostitutes recoil?

In the waste of every fortune we see;
What is it that should seek me?
What is the abhorrence of the upper class, that begrudged a prostitutes recoil?
What is the heaven we have found?

Writ on water, is the passing of youth; not without significant passion.
Not without enthusiasm or willingness,
But because we must now become aged.