The Charlatan

The wind pipes blow arcane music,

As charlatan sang the song of silence,

Oh! Orpheus deliver the tunes to the heaven,

There is no one in the pigeon’s hole as servant,

Of the high majesty my lord the king of heavens,

The king sat bemused with the idea of space ship,

On the course of charlatan’s music cadence,

He sang at a pitch to tumble down the paradise,

Into the Kings’ lap which is ludicrous,

The counsel thought but granted the Charlatan,

To perform the feat and enamor Paradise at this hour,

Gentle he pursued to swoon the queen with his tune,

Nay! It went the wrong way,

And the King noticed the mischief,

There must be silence upon the silence,

To know where the Paradise is,

Is the majesty’s only desire in the material world,

Where money and power ruled the rest,

From the fringes of society to the domains of symphonies,

King conjectured, where is the heaven?

Charlatan pursued again a faulty tune,

The King broke with anger and did punish the Charlatan,

Who sold books on the bazaar,

And music he stole from the bizarre,

He was sent to the jail for playing stolen symphonies,

And King till the day does not know where lies the Paradise!

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