Masked strangers

They suffer through
Their silence—
And in their trust of strength
Roaring lioness be softened
By your fear of consequence

Smashing the ground open
She came close
To breaking through
The dimming of
The candle—
Piano playing out of tune

Rounded tables
Wooden chairs—
The Parisian effect
People gather close
To question what
Would happen next

Like little moths
To fire dust
Pour around the flickered-flame
Churning through the
Reddened rust
Insane hide behind the sane

Strangers share a passing glance
And question where
Their glance could lead
If only one—
Could have the courage
To break free