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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

Masquerade


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Masquerade

 

Her eyes watched

from behind the mask

while the music played

from somewhere far away

 

Drawn by the song

she drifted away,

leaving a trail of feathers

in her wake

 

Ascending each marble

step within the spiral,

alone but for the burning flame,

hidden away in the shadows

 

She accelerates with each

stroke that beckons and guides

her way; heart beating faster

for fear the silence will come

before she uncovers the mistro

 

Images dance within her head

lust and love clashing together,

cloaked behind crimson curtains

draping along dark windows

 

A moment that stretches on

beyond time; lost within the maze,

dazzled by each new disguise

which passes over watching eyes

 

Her fingers slide along

the wall which undulates

before the fall of the melody

 

A keystroke rings the chime

of a clock; the witching hour

struck its final tune and

there the costumes fall away

 

A dream that shimmers

to unravel and beneath

the veil reveals the truth

which falls like a hammer

of a heartbeat

 

Yet there remains

upon the floor a fallen

mask and a few floating

feathers bejeweled in black

pearls and ribbons of silk.

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  • 4 weeks later...

It's a longer poem than I usually like, but exactly as long as it needs to be. I never got lost except for the keystroke; that's not a term I've ever heard to refer to a piano.

 

Tiny typo: I think you wanted 'maestro' and not 'mistro'. That particular typo made my mind veer towards mistrals--strong winds.

 

 

Mistral

 

One discordant blast

 

The costumes ripped away

veil snatched into the darkness

by an unseen hand

 

Windows scream

leap like a beating heart

rattle, rip, wrench free

 

The mask tumbles

convex concave on edge

but never still.

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