From Alpha to Omega
The sultan's beard in forest gloom
denies his fears - impending doom
of camel's dung and flies away
the desert flung from disarray
he steers his ship nor till nor wheel
but lets it slip until he feels
his mistress hair in sultry curls
the disturbed air like sulphur whirls
his nose astray to filthy lands
who knows his way when guilty hands
have rent the silk and fine damask
took mother's milk but failed to ask
and yet this time has come too fast
for columbine from first to last.
