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A thousand claps after the show,
But in his box the joker weeps,
Cutting into his hands and legs,
Are strings from a cruel world.
Clinging to the edge of being,
He was trying to walk the line,
Obligation fettered his dreams,
And shatter he did when he fell.
Poisons, they clouded his brain,
Twisting, tearing him apart,
Losing mind body and soul,
Distant echoes of a silent scream.
And then it was he found her,
Like what was meant to be,
But given her heart was already,
A lucky king that trumped a joker.
Now, beggared by love's promises,
He watches life go by relentlessly,
Just memories for a sad company,
Neither joy nor hope, he has none.
But a day shall come to set him free,
Cut loose that string of being,
When his soul shall soar ecstatic,
Death his salvation already.
PS: All characters and events are real and any resemblance present is intended. Unfortunately, no questions shall be entertained.
