A Dance

Masking

It's an affair,
One of the clock. 
That ticks in beat,
With my nimble stride. 
Could it be the start, 
Or perhaps the end. 
This ring is familiar,
Is it already twelve?
I ask standing still, 
Above yet also below.
With eyes so curious, 
But somehow closed.
A wicked pulse,
Inside my ear.
That moves my feet,
One only I can feel.
In temptation and fear,
Of all those near.

  • Author: Thinker (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: May 9th, 2021 23:04
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 30
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Comments1

  • L. B. Mek

    (an intriguing read,
    and thanks for inspiring my little scribbled reply dear poet)
    we are but fallible human's, after all
    although - once we've inked words
    of such self-revealing insight
    we have no place to hide
    for Acting - on
    those Unsavoury and animalistic Urges...
    (let us always: Strive to Better
    those Based - and shadow-less, aspects
    within our Self loathingly, weak-willed traits
    of depraved Cruelty: we are All born
    with the Capacity to Inflict, thoughtlessly...!)
    'So instead:
    Choosing to Love - considerately
    as We, also
    would like to be appreciated - Amorously'



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