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  • Black Masquerade
    Patrick Goins
    13 Jan 2003

    The sky has turned a rather interesting hue
    Bright burnt sienna mixed with crimson pink
    But I haven't time to think such idle thoughts
    I have no time to sit around and idle in repose
    Tonight is a joyous, glorious night
    Tonight is a looming, gloomy, undying night
    We will talk of things that no one thinks
    And dance the dance of remembrance
    We will sing the songs that no one sings
    All the while not really knowing why
    Clinking tipped glasses filled to the brim
    And drinking in the drunkenness of the air
    If you stop a second you can almost hear
    A thousand voices all cheering in agreement
    No one has seen anything quite like tonight
    No man or woman has felt like this in years
    So the party continues on into the hours
    Morning comes but is strangely ignored
    As the warm sun touches down on the cool earth
    Cold lifeless hands almost reach for illumination
    Night passes on into another day
    And questions slowly begin to plague you
    What happened at the party the night before?
    I think I will have to tell you the truth
    Death, like a hunter, stalks us all
    There are some that bear a mark he made
    Fate brings them like lambs to slaughter
    And they are harvest of the black masquerade

    Poe-esque... I suppose... who knows