The Masquerade

They danced and glided effortlessly about the room,
Anonymous specters of prophesied doom.
Their faceless faces,
Their nameless races,
Concealed from each other,
Concealed from themselves.

Their secrets and lies,
Their fake joyous cries,
Echoed by a black ceiling,
Back to those hearts so unfeeling.
Their disguises become identity,
They forget what they're hiding.

Their ball is so truthless
With their facade so ruthless,
Their eyes filled with hate
For a once normal state.
Their masks try to cover their normalcy,
But they slaughter all uniqueness.