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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
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