Masks and Moonlight

The stage is set, the lights are burning bright, A calculated dance in fading false moonlight. The players gather, masks upon their face, Each seeking power in this treacherous space. A whispered promise, a hand upon the back, A sudden turn, a calculated attack. The words like daggers, sharpened and so keen, To wound an opponent, and to seize the scene. The polls are shifting like sands upon the shore, A fickle audience, demanding evermore. The rhetoric soars on wings of hollow sound, While truth lies buried on corrupted ground. The puppets dance on strings of unseen might, Their every gesture, bathed in partisan light. The grand illusion expertly displayed A theater of power where trust is betrayed. The cameras flash, a blinding, empty gleam, Reflecting shadows in a broken dream. The people watch with weary knowing eyes, As government game, before them, never dies. The curtain falls, the actors take their bow, But who has won, and who has lost, and how? The scheme continues in this endless staged affair, Where political play leaves only thin stale air. ©bfa031425