The Damned Carnival
A Macabre Waltz in Life's Grotesque Big Top

In this godforsaken circus of misery, we dance, we writhe,
From the cursed cradle's act to the grave's final sigh.
Life's a grotesque freak show, each soul a miserable clown,
Under this godawful big top, death's grim countdown.
Down rat-ridden alleyways of cheap laughs, through the ghost house of tears,
We scrawl our tales in cotton candy dreams, drowned in our fears.
A calliope’s dirge drones, each heartbeat a wicked taunt,
Yet beneath the mirth, death's bony fingers begin to haunt.
Death, the final act, the sideshow's grand guignol,
A mute journey to a silent realm, the final toll.
A voyage to the void, where all tunes fade,
Where the spotlight dims, and life's garish colors degrade.
We're but jesters in this goddamned cosmic farce,
Spinning, twirling under the celestial arch.
A fall here, a stumble there, beneath the soulless sky,
From the opening act to the final goodbye.
What's left when the fire eater's flame is out?
But echoes of laughter and sobs, drowned in doubt.
A trapeze artist's whisper, a mournful sigh,
In this goddamned circus, we live, we die.
Life's a sick joke, death's a bloody vanishing act,
Born in a moment, extinguished in fact.
And what's the last line, when the big top's pulled down?
Just a ghostly echo of the deserted clown town.
To the dissonant rhythm of the circus drum, we stagger and reel,
We're fleeting shadows in the cosmic wheel.
Between the spectacle of birth and death's grim encore,
We perform in this bloody, godforsaken circus, forevermore.
About the Creator
Black Ink
Pen dipped in the ink of darkness, probing the abysses of the human soul...



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