Friday, March 15, 2013

Bright Night


Happy faces speak in masked words 
Screams of agonizing laughter 
Dark eyes dripping with the misty past 
Every clink an echo of fire and smoke 
Every glint a festival of mourning 
Disguised slaves perform their motions to the music of the machine 
Scratching backs till there's nothing but bone 

We own nothing. 
It owns us.