Assembly, in the halls of white marble A new ritual, or at least forgotten. A shining metal bowl, shallow, rounded bottom The water is still.. Even as you cut my forbidden hair, you marvel at its lustre Even as you slice away the clothes, you admire their fit Even as you kill me, you can feel my greatness It is a lost beauty, a fatal sunset, the last touch of the executioner you offer me. We accept our roles, as part of nature, and at the end, disperse.