Carnivale

Torn, Confused, Broken, Hurt.
The teeter never stops tottering.

The roller coaster with its ups and downs
does little to amuse,
The carnies all hidden behind
clever masks of friendly fun

The darkness creeps in,
The day gives way to night,
The chill air brushes against my shoulder,
nothing to cover these open wounds

I cry out for hope,
understanding, sympathy?
No, nothing is freely given,
Everything has a price.

The joy is gone,
The sorrow wept,
Nothing more than mirrors and mazes,
contorting the image i've tried desperately to form

I stop and take a breath,
Soak in those familiar sights and sounds,
The dreamland lost in a wave of reality.
I reach the top of the hill.

The slope goes on for miles,
twisting and turning, up and down.
I look back at the track behind me,
covered up by a dense fog.

Nowhere to go but down,
I brace for the drop, grit my teeth,
and prepare for the long road ahead,
continuing on the journey unkown.