Tuesday, September 10, 2013

A Poem: The Peddler


The Peddler


The tribal mask stares at me
Void of eyes, yet can see

The hidden malice radiates out
Fills my heart with dread and doubt

I tremble and plead for my life
He laughs and laughs and takes my wife.

The peddler promised serenity
Not punishment for all eternity

I sink into sleep, that endless lake
The mask waits for me to wake

I can not escape, although I try
I am held forever by his vacant eye.

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