My friends have.become my enemies,
And my enemies have gone from my sight,
Into walls that fingernails gnaw against,
Sharp glistening bones that pick the gums of soft, raw certainty,
Ears and eyes too, forever afraid, forever alert,
Within the veiled intrigue.
The four corners each turn a face to you,
Piercing gazes like swords into your gut,
To hide from the spotlight is meaningless,
When all your fears are laid bare,
Before the brood baying for blood.
Ticking in the breast of every paranoiac,
Who waltzed about in despair and uncertainties,
Until his dance is over,
And he is shown to be true to his word and to his conviction,
In a state known as “too late”
Till all he loved turns against him,
Till he becomes a shadow,
Against the veiled intrigue.
Threats of violence turned to dust,
Cries of passion burn away,
Keep the peace and do not leap,
until your time has gone astray,
Every face a smiling pit,
Every soft “are you ok?”
Keeps his hope falsely aloft,
Inside the veiled intrigue.