Thursday, March 5, 2009
The Jester
Painted faces hide
What never should be seen.
Cheorographed moves deny
All entry within.
It's a mystery,
Never to be solved.
Those alive can't tell
How it evolved.
You gave me what I didn't need;
Running when I receed.
You came, synchronized when
You were the last person I wanted then.
His painted face had no eyes
His lips spoke of no lie.
Yet the joke that never came was that
Of a mute muttering his name.
You were there all month-long.
In food, in thought and in song.
Yet today the words hurt to speak
For the treasure he'll so desperately seek.
Living in olivion, you wouldn't know.
What exactly is deep in his soul.
Pain and horror, blood and snow;
Shadows move wherever we go.
Haunted lives will never forget
The jokes of this immortal, not yet.
