The Fool - Dark Moor

An odd figure

Ancient, wondrous

Needs its vigour

To work his way yonder

Where his gladness

Becomes sadness

When his madness takes control

In this world where the starts are ends

All chances are nothing but trends

Where hazard rules, he is the world

He is The Fool

Wears a look of innocence

The energy is into motion

Following his inner sense

His north will be providence

Takes a walk

Starting off his journey

Always forward looking

For his freedom

He takes the life

As a gladless tourney

That he must confront

By going on and on

In this world where the starts are ends…