Tom Flanders World

Writer of Fiction

The Ball

The phoenix came to the party dressed as a peacock.

The eyes on his borrowed feathers saw the truth of us all.

Masks and costumes, beer and wine, fear and ecstasy.

Lonely creatures stalking willing prey.

Hungry freaks tasting flesh previously forbidden.

A mass illusion held together by tawdry string.

At midnight the phoenix shed his false eyes.

He toasted our mutual folly and burst into flames.

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Tags: ,, - Author: Tom - Published: November 27, 2013


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