black deceit

With my eyes closed, it’s black, with faint images of the unseen.
Closer and closer they appear in a theatrical scene,
The pretty faces are laughing, the laughing is frightening.
Its image is haunting, intruding, unending.
The sound is chilling, it’s all obscene.
The long fingers pointing, causing pain, tormenting the aching bloody vascular organ,
beating so hard, pumping blood at an immeasurable rate.
Choking on the organs beat, on breath, on words.
Mouths to ears, whispers are unheard,
But the message is recognized.
All faces are expressed, except the distressed.
The distressed is numb, those faces do not know, they are a loathsome disguise,
And this distressed soul will rise.
The eyes open with so much gratitude for today,
What’s distressing is this dream was once reality.

–”Totally mad. Utter nonsense. But we’ll do it because it’s brilliant nonsense.”–

- Yours Truly. Huckleberry