Screaming Mannequins by Marieta Maglas

Eyes huddled in fear,
that paralyzing fear in front of
the bullets mercilessly sprayed,
deeply sprayed by some cruelty,
which is fed up
with a lot of victims,
those defenseless victims of hate,
a dreadful hate,
which is fed up with a little love
as well as
a little pleasure can be fed up with a lot of suffering,
that extreme suffering,
which embellishes the madness,
that round and seemingly nonexistent madness being like
a strange cold having
many moisturized rosy-red,
rosy-red ring-shaped patches
associated with a giant Quincke swelling
and with a boisterous cooling noisy breath,
that snorting breath like a groaning song,
a love song for a dance of death,
that painful death for all the hot puppets,
beautiful puppets becoming cold wax mannequins,
those mannequins screaming in their red rain
of feelings,

those red feelings coloring a few sad moments,
cool moments of many winter fires
those burning fires in the lost caves of shadows.

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