Title: Our masquerade with the plague
Our masquerade with the plague,
Dancing six feet away,
Not to tread on someone’s day.
Kisses are now the devils PAYG (Pay As You Go).
Futuristic I guess,
But he still reaps what he sows.
Welcoming death by cake,
For we have many tiers of...
You scare me,
With your face like the moon.
It turns like an owl,
And stares with a loom.
Your greetings are invites,
And your words spoken like a tale.
You can’t be real,
A human so pale.
Not by completion but by complexity,
A drawing of what a person could be.
Your a mystical creature,