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Illustration by @luciesalgado
In this exquisite masquerade,
I must not show my face,
'cause if I do,
the hunters will mark their target.
As the masquerade goes on,
my mask starts to crack
in front of certain people,
hopefully they haven't marked their target.
Soon the masquerade will end,
in front of certain people,
and at certain times I show my face,
hopefully the assassins did't see.
Finally the witching hour,
time to leave.
Peaces start falling,
the assassins and hunters have already killed.
Tomorrow there'll be another masquerade,
and another,
and another,
and another,
until I die.
64 Launches
Part of the Poetry collection
Updated on September 29, 2019
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