And as promised..
MaskI found her under a mask.
A mangled corpse -- gruesome, bloody.
On hindsight it seemed silly
but I turned to her to ask,
"Who killed you, little lass?"
She turned her head,
smiled and answered with a grin,
"For a boon, I give a tremendous task
to find my killer and unmask
who killed me, the little lass."
Half of me jumped in surprise
Half, with glee undisguised
For how often does one see
A spectacle such as this --
A dead girl talking with a mission for me?
On to the city I went where a festival commenced.
Man, woman, child wore a mask
Of hand painted smiles and a barrel of laughs.
I frowned, wondering which ass
killed the little lass.
Boldly, I approached a street chippy
Wearing, brazenly, a mask and a
Gown too red, too racy.
Bravely, daringly, I asked,
"Did you kill the little lass?"
Her mask, she took off swiftly
And there stood a child no more aged three.
In a voice so innocent, sweeter than any
she answered my once-valiant query,
"No, not I. Not I, surely."
With her reply, all the others turned to look
and their mask, they removed.
Not one who I thought they would be.
My question, unspoken to me they cast,
"Did you? Did you kill the little lass?"
It was then I realized
that I, I too, wore a disguise.
It shook me at how I couldn't see
the mask I wore so clearly.
And there, there ended my task.
For it was I.
I killed the little lass.
Festival
The city skies burn brighter
On flickering lights of gold.
The city folk come alive, with bold
masks and smiles of tales untold.
Merchants call to tease
The city's hunger willing to appease.
Walk, walk the city streets
Walk and dance to the frantic beats.
Smell the aroma of sweets and spices,
Of food once-raw -- cooked, flawless.
It's a night of fantasy, of make pretend
It's a night of imagination unleashed, unbent.
If you're wondering why I have two poems for MassKara, it's because I couldn't decide which to write - the festival or that of wearing masks which implies identities. So here they are.
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