Shadows in Harlequin masks
You allowed them to enter your home…
Shadows in harlequin masks laugh and dance insanely,
as they bar the iron doors of writings hidden.
Shameless and unaccountable, souls entrapped
within the black vomit, they swallow,
they reek of dead corpses.
Who is the lock smith
who denies knowledge of opening locks
or the retired criminal
who now wavers in his impulses at their command?
Scared, shaken you allow them to enter your home
and leave possessing your body and your mind encroached
with vines that creep and sneer as each thorn pierces,
marking the wounds in its new territory.
Embodying a beast they slash and shred carelessly
before feasting,
ravishing all.
You are left with nothing... nothing
except the lost remains it heaves out.
(2012)
