Who would put a floating pearl in a cage?
What kinds of winds would even rage
From a gold and orange volcano cone
To lift a black pearl all alone
Above the mountain’s tricorn peaks?
Why does the mountain, where it leaks
On either side of the gold-cage bars
Fade into a dark gray-gold? Where’s the stars
In Selene’s black and dismal midnight sky?
The mountain speaks – do you hear it cry?
This mountain moonbeam tumbles down
From Selene’s darkened moonlit crown –
Hear her rumble in her pearls of rage:
She does not belong in her golden cage.