Conflicts of a circle of colored bands
A cloth that was round
Had been found
By a prince who saw the world in black and white.
An unknown hand
From an unknown land
Had drawn a circle in the absence of light
On that round cloth
So that nothing was lost
No matter how subtle and slight.
Alternating bands
So well planned
Each band only one of two colors
That seemed the same
And in this life’s game
Near impossible to tell one from the other.
Only in the night
In the absence of light
And the presence of a singular brain
Was the prince certain
That an opaque curtain
Had dropped to reveal the arcane.
For the prince saw
Pure beauty raw
In twos befitting his reign.
The colors’ difference
Didn’t detect with indifference
That called them exactly the same.
So the cloth of two rounds
For all the kingdom’s towns
Became the standard of pride
And flew strong and proud
Higher than a cloud
And on cloudy nights all citizens lied.
For they swore they saw
With the prince’s awe
In the black what the prince had spied.
It didn’t take long
For the balladeers’ song
To reach the ends of the Earth
And it didn’t take long
For armies most strong
Sent by kings would have its worth.
And wars raged
And plagues plagued
And on black nights the aesthetic view.
Each successive king
Who owned the real thing
Knew that he knew what he knew.
And all kings’ people yell,
“We have escaped hell,
And a fine how do you do.”
But the circle’s bands
Could no longer withstand
This descent of the deepest dive.
In the latest king’s keep
The circle rose from its sleep
For it always was alive.
And a germ that had spread
From the living dead
Now insisted on its turn to drive.
And the bands began warring,
Time had brought too much whoring,
The bands could no longer thrive.
In broad daylight
They commenced to fight
Till nothing did survive.
It mattered not
The aim of each shot
Fired by each band.
Both in black and in light
Each band’s plight
Always knew it was damned.
There was only one mother,
There was only one color
Used by the artist’s hand.
Man’s disease had spread
Into each band’s head
The disease of not giving a damn.