Scripts in cursive fill the papyrus
confused in all belong
Amnesia washes the lioness
considered to be a true song

Thus this is the desire be
this I do not comprehend
I suppose the lamb follows the sheep
unto the very end

Watchers see beauty in red and white
oceans tears cleanse and tint
Stanza breaks all abrupt
In their eyes do glint

Magnets move in opposite directions
taking on different paths
All must end in unison
yet still, I need to ask