Another questionable figure

It's a mystery

A questionable figure

There before me stands a man
A man devoid of all life
A man devoid of all consciousness
He is empty
He is slender
He is nothing
Is he still a man?
His name hisses at the tip of your tongue
A sizzle
A crackle
A pop
A fizzle
Is he still a man?
His shadow dances across the lake
His eyes pools of translucent plasma
His face gaunt and sickly
Dreamweaver or architect of nightmares?
I look at him
Yet I see an infertile garden, deprived of all amenities
He is not who he is
Master of deception
His lies a symphony
Distorted to those who don’t know him


The End

0 comments about this poem Feed