Arena of Concealment

the image of the world I live in

born into to fall into oblivion

is the huge arena of illusion & deceit

nothing's real

not a thing curtain call & the show starts,

commonness and self-leceration against the unceasing

lape of redemption - clowns

the masters of disguise

are man's prototype my fear of the future increases

this arena is crowded with clowns

curtain call & the show starts

just one tear releases a violent river