The Masquerade
Dying words on ruby lips—
tattered remains of love,
Last breath given by the dove—
unhealing wound…blood drips.
Who are you?
Devoured by the dark—
air hushed, choking…still,
I feel them; shadows kill—
I am trapped, hidden by the Mark.
Where am I?
Shattered upon the frigid ice—
scorched by Hell’s fire,
Shredded by soul’s desire—
you have destroyed me thrice.
What have you done?
Death kisses the air—
He lingers to wipe my tears,
Chasing all the encroaching fears—
I wear His mask to the fair.
Am I safe now?
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