Said the Joker to the King

Spoke the monarch's entertainer,

is it satire you desire,

from a clown, a joke, a fool?

From behind this mask, 

I see the flyspecks of shallow souls,

and can speak in only tongues and riddles.

A beautiful mingler,

to ridicule your follies,

when you want neither serious praise nor serious denunciation.

When what you want is 

caricature, parody, travesty

I tell no lies.

Oh, every face wears a mask.

And should your gold turn into sand

I ask you then

Will your soul lie stripped beneath?

Or will it remain lost when even the vultures have left,

and only the seasons can remember what once was.

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