Substitutions.
Dancing on a thin wire above a crowd.
Their heads thrown back in a bout of laughter,
slits -like rivers parting land- flow down their cheeks.
I look for an end
but all I can see are the contractions of pink followed by raucous noise,
like a vast sea, undulating without the tranquility of azure.
A wave forms beneath me as the beasts grow inpatient,
growing in size and fury.
I stumble and sway as the world shakes around me,
but balance is impossible when the sense of fear is heightened.
The wave grows larger, boiling, recruiting new layers to hold its base,
but their efforts are in vain.
I slip, losing my footing and losing my faith in everything.
My hands reach for a hold but the wire is too thin, too sharp.
Void of hope, of happiness, I collide with the wave
with a shower of red following in my wake.
The sea stills with a slow rhythmic rumble and I am devoured.