And what is prayer, O seekers of the cause?
Prayer is the weary soul of Herod’s dancer,
Dancing before blind kings without applause.
The fifth stone is a magic stone, my David,
Made up of fear and failure, lies and loss.
Its heart is lead, and on its face is gravèd
A crookèd cross, my son, a crookèd cross.
It has no dignity to lend it value;
No purity—alas, it bears a stain.
You shall not give it gratitude, nor shall you