Something is Happening

Between the library and the Common Room
Something is happening
And they have come to take her by the hand
And she names her daemons

All men, bearded and bereft of ideas
Moving through unlit halls
Sliding across marble floors
They reach the tavern
The bubbling gold liquid
In the glass
More beautiful than
All the colours in the artist's pallet
And they escape all consequences
For they are young barbarians
Mapping out inner wars
Within their minds