The Masked Ball

 

The dancers on the floor whirl masked, defaced.

The music’s back. Why is it not more fun?

Muffling the mouth, and over the ears laced.

 

Like magic, ease of smile and touch erased,

Breath of your partner fatal as a gun.

The dancers on the floor whirl masked, defaced.

 

Those dearest, in the past gladly embraced,

Stand glanced at now askance as anyone.

Muffling the mouth and over the ears laced.

 

Inside the siege of castle walls encased—

Enchanted chain of thorns that choke the sun—

The dancers on the floor whirl masked, defaced.

 

The cellar’s hooked bat drips its silent waste.

How can spells cast in darkness be undone?

Muffling the mouth, and over the ears laced.

 

Grateful to stay alive, these should feel graced:

Yet, craning, check the punchbowl for a potion.

The dancers on the floor whirl masked, defaced.

Muffling the mouth, and over the ears laced.