Happenstance

The snow queen’s tears start freezing on alabaster cheeks
as the jester slices off his face
maids and minions of the court rush to lick the blood
and time bends inward leaving empty space

nothing is as nothing was, and nothing will become
the essence of itself and nothing more
fantasy is blasphemy, acceptance never real,
reality itself is but a whore

the court musicians play a dirge, the maids and minions dance
round about the dying jester’s form
outside the castle walls more angry music starts to rise
as unknown deities converge in storm

frozen tears on frozen face convey no false regret
as the queen has come to realize
so she too partakes of crimson sacrament in haste
before it disappears behind her eyes

becoming just a memory the years will steal away
( for she never knew the jester’s name ),
but maids and minions, queens and fools, and even deities
are destined to forever play their game

time has passed, the blood has dried, and all are fast asleep
the jester’s corpse now nothing more than meat
but he will live again within the flesh of castle dogs
his soul a sacrifice for all to eat

C. Lon R. Bruso