Written by Adam M. Snow
Twenty one times three, a journey of laughter;
the fool borne clown was he.
Entertaining his majesty -- soon after
realize the laughter would soon die with him.
Soon to vanish, he of many voices;
his entire jest would soon to end.
All to end by his choices;
a feeling without a friend.
This Jester who proudly gave us laughter,
was dying deep within.
Covering his pain with the joy of laughter;
if it were enough, it would have been,
but it wasn't enough for him.
So this Jester left to wonder,
'Was he truly loved enough?'
Yet he could not see past yonder,
the treasures that loved enough.
He gave his all but lost his soul to grieve,
and grieved himself upon a tree.
Entangled rope within the sticks and leaves,
a last resort, felt for a Jester such as he.
So now this Jester once a clown,
lays to rest within his chamber.
Retiring with him his Jester's crown,
leaving with us a memory to remember.
This Jester left without a bow,
still a mystery to us all.
The thought that struck him and how
he felt the need to fall.
A broken heart, was that his pain?
Thus this day that laughter died.
A reason for sorrow to reign,
O for his majesty, who cried.
O his majesty's courts,
silence fills the hall.
The king is left to mourn,
the Jester who felt the need to fall.
Laughter died with him,
the fool borne clown.
A joyous time spent with him,
now he passes on his Jester's crown.