Life is not really life at all.
It is the mask that death wears
To a costume at His own ball.
It is the glitter and gold
of His decorations
It is the intoxication of the drinks
He is serving.
It is the beauty of the music
He is orchestrating.
It is the last call,
Of His calling.
We know it is a disguise
Yet we play along
What else are we to do?
We attend.
We dance.
We drink.
We listen.
We go home.
© 2011
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Chanel, your work is so powerfully written and heartfelt.
Thank you for sharing your experience with us. Lisa
Deeply-felt; Indelible and Silky.
Twittering the first 2 lines and this link.
Thanks Nicole! 🙂
Truly beautiful and dark in the same moment. More please!
There will be more, thanks for squeezing The Juice Bar! LK 🙂
What a powerful and delicate poem. It is beautiful and haunting.
We read
We enjoy
We want more