Masquerade

A colourful array of falsehoods Intricately designed disguises Fools, fortunes, phantoms Masks clinging on their faces Lives hidden away by an illusory veils Veils that cannot be removed Cannot be seen Secrets tucked away in their eyes Each a pair of stained glass windows that peer into their essence A glassy marble home for their soul that if I looked into too hard would shatter Revealing everything that’s so carefully tucked away in the deep waters of their iris The constant buzz of talking voices Like cicadas on a bland, midsummer morning Droning on and on Nonsensical jabber Their voices forcing their way in my mind Latching on and not letting go Easily forgotten Inconsequential Fraudulent elegance that appals me Something so distinct yet tainted by the frantic, steps of the beings around me Music guiding them to their predestined downfall The string weaved webs entrapping them like insects They do not panic yet follow maniacal horde of feverish behaviour Selling their souls for this siren song It rings in my ears, pierces through my mind and lures me towards That’ll remain a hazy memory locked in the back of my mind There in the crowd I see a curious sight Your mask A macédoine of a pleasantly sombre frown A twisted mockery of joy A peculiar sight That holds a comfort alluring impression An enticing invitation A looking glass in which depths I find you What are we if not a tragic pair? The laughable parody of a Shakespearan play Comedy and Tragedy Intertwined fates I want to reach out, take off your meticulously crafted mask Who is the soul living in your iris? What caused it such great hurt? Yet I’m afraid of shattering you Or maybe I am afraid that underneath it all All I’ll see is a reflection of me As I look closer I see one single tear travel down the porcelain skin of your disguise I search your iris from a reason Your crystal sphere of truth holds no answers It’s an empty, foggy void Your soul so deeply tucked away that it’s invisible I want to reach in, pull it out Roll it in my hands carefully Mesmerised by its details, flaws and imperfections Study it and memorise it to my heart’s content Before dropping it back into your neverending fractal lake Not forgotten Noteworthy Lost in the mob of fluttering cicadas Coloured visages at every burning glance Beautiful yet judging Bulging wide eyes following my steps Expressions of simulated pity contorted by their porcelain coverings Drowning in their stares I want to become a phantom, a child of the shadows An angel of darkness, a spectator able to watch these creatures from afar Undetected Softening my gaze I seem to sympathise with these beings After all, isn't this a perfect place to hide your face from the prying eyes of this world around you? Masquerade, such a tantalising facade