A masque or raid the audience screams

softly to reflect too deft the clumsy strings

hung neatly on folds behind the scenes

overlapping distracting

happiness in a pair

 singled out

masked as an attack

past.

Presently playing strings swiftly

slowly the puppeteer leads tender hearts

deftly lacking strength to walk away

or just stay.

Anger mimics bilingually

happy to be a mistaken interpretation.

Universal language unknown love

is indefinable between two actors

blindfolded by past masques

depicting  faces fallacies foes

cyclically caught between

viral plays for affection

known only by a façade

fit for folly.

Words too confined to fit the space

needed for unified understanding.

Language lacking depth to destroy misrepresentation.

This world is a Masque

Love Fear Hate Trust Lust are the Masks.

We are the Puppeteers, the Puppets, the Audience.

One to lead, one to deceive, one to understand.