51. Everyone was dancing, but me.
52. Nameless.
from Anatopist's 261 prompts on DA
The Masquarade, a beautiful dance... Indeed
all of the dancers faces concealed as decreed.
They will dance the night away, With a dancing partner they only think they know.
I Laugh from my space within the shadows.
For even I Know "Once the mask is donned, No one is who they seem".
We are all nameless, faceless individuals.
Well.... That is, "Once the mask is donned",
I, my dear friend, Am not wearing one of those damned porcelin falsities.
I Prefer to watch, For everyone is too drunk to remember this event,
They will see it all as a recurring dream,
For every on full moon is the Masquarade Ball set.
But you see, the ghosts of the past, this older generation, and the odd ones, We, we aren't the masked ones.
And now, As midnight draws near, even we begin to dance.
Drawn by the pull of the booming tock of the clock, they waltz among the glass.
But me, I wind the clock and set the tempo, and the time, I cannot dance on the night of the Moon.
I am not, because even as they dance, I am just one shadow.
A mere shade of myself.
For the masquarade doesnt need me to live tonight.
Not with these mindless sheep dancing away.
Thus, Everyone is dancing
but, me.
YOU ARE READING
Imitations of Immortality
ŞiirPoety. I guess that makes me a poetess, or a Lady Poet. They both sound funny. I like to be called storyteller, world-builder, bard. I tell stories in epics, and legends in rhyme. They are all futile attempts, as it is merely clumsy poet's song. Tho...
