THE DECEITFUL TUNE

A silver sliver of sonnets sold

the molten moon that crumbled

beneath the hearkened tune

of a stolen, crimson ballad's blade.

The minds screeched as the song

mused beneath its radiant mask,

awaiting the world that cannot see

the swan it burned to tell its trickling tale.

The solemn swan's ghastly lullaby

rises from behind the feigning sun

to assume the mantle of a word,

lost to time but known to all.

The word hammers on the heads

of a million wandering souls

that dance among the casted flowers

of the majestic heart's glowering grin.