I sit on an ebon platform,
My ears atuned to tinkering sound,
Drop they did with ripple effects,
Yet a pool they made at my bequest.
The smile goes a-hiding,
The birds abandon their nesty homes,
The chambermaid has made haste,
To cower beneath its lofty gaze.
I pause and I ponder,
How deep can they go,
Man cannot grasp it,
Neither can those that call themselves god,
Rest assured it is not a farce.
I am thrown into bouts of thinking,
How exactly will it end?,
How exactly will I know?,
If it be tears or clouds of rain.