The Masks We Wear

Masks, illusions, death march silence,
red full moon, planets above.
Wordless murmuring, earthly reckoning,
boundaries breached, too-mortal love.
Stress sensations yield to nightmares;
terrors deep and visions shy
Waiting for someone to save us;
Waiting for someone to die.
Waiting for the morn to wake us,
daylight to bring a new clear sky.

© Christine Salkin Davis, 2020


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