Fortune Is a Delusion and a Snare

Fortune is a delusion and a snare.
There was a time when life was no banquet,
And no wine flowed, and maps were bordered with:

“Here do be monsters: kings without a myth.
Hear the horn, pipe, lyre, trigon, and harp and drum!
And fear the Hydra-horns of Vision, and
The winged demons shattered in the sand.”

And my spirit was troubled by the scenes
Of tyranny, and endless cycle of
Renewed suppression, minions under oath.

But then I abdicated ancient ways,
And I eclipsed oppression, so its name
Was charred and written over, and I said:
“Farewell to Pretty Sorrow, and Adieu.”