Masque

Faire Fashion's Way - IV

A masque is held before the great; the air
Is ancient and to haunting strain the dance
Is done. The lowly in their awe do stare
And quake, the foolish in their folly prance
And caper to the tune. In antic bliss
The dancers whirl, enacting ancient rite
Of precedence and place, their artifice
And practiced grace portraying their delight
While 'neath their veils lurk visions of the dark.
The fairest face is flesh as garb to bone;
The dearest held ambition shall be stark
And with all lust be laid beneath the stone.
But faceless skulls shall answer at last call
Of trump. A mask is held before us all.