Penthouse Prison

Are we truly ended dead and gone Or lost within a dusk-less dawn?

A parchment torn, yet still one page Two hearts adrift in different stage.

When far from thee, I wear a grin, Yet mourn the light I keep within.

A paradox, a ghosted hue, I wish I could explain to you. I wish this ache were not so true. The mirror shows no man but shade, A soul in velvet chains betrayed.

The crystal glass, it weeps my woe one amber tear, then ten in tow.

I drink to hush what must appear: These thoughts, these fears, these whispers near.

I cannot see the fog is thick

I cleanse my grief with poison quick.

This whiskey balm, it dulls the cries, But leaves me hollow when it dries.

I disappear into the haze,

A ghost beneath the gala’s blaze.

Don’t follow me I’m not the same, This fame has scalded out my name.The end draws close, the shadows leer,They clap I flinch, I block my ears.

The crowd delights, their faces glow,But I, the marionette, bend low. Their cheers, a dirge in masquerade, Their love, a cold and fleeting blade.

This penthouse high, my gilded tomb,No lover’s breath, no rose in bloom.

Each echo rings like distant moan, I’m crowned in gold and yet alone.

So ask me once: “Are we undone?”

I’ll say the show has just begun

But in the wings where lost hearts go, I’ll weep in silence Poe would know.