The Jester
A jester sat in the dark A fool sat surrounded A clown in motley sat singing
screaming and laughing
until there was only silence
rhyming with death
and only deaf ears to hear
hearing music only he could perceive
in tune to the slow
drip
drip
drip
blood on sharp blades
dripping on.
Author's note:
Yes, I do love Cicero! Madness is such a lovely thing to behold and holds far more depths than those cursed with sanity could ever understand.
