THE BUT The Past the sung but unclear The knot so hard unbreakable The notes lovely not at times Still the Present does adore the steps! Rung a thousand tunes afresh The dawn anew and fragrant neo! The count never ends my dear! The spells alive loud and bold! The Present does dribble into the Past- No rather flow at times, cascade Roll trickle or ooze. Pour surge Rush gush, sweep self to the Doom! Sweet the singing sweeter than ever! O My Dear, carefree not I am! The ambiguity is the curse, yet There is the But the Rescuer!