My bitter-sweet symphony
Is played at
A masquerade of sorts
Ball gowns and tuxes
The scrap of the
Heels gliding across the floor
As the women are helplessly spun by their
Knights in shining armor
They dance to my symphony
It speaks to them
Each man in his mask looking for
The girl under the mystery
My symphony whispers the lies I’ve been told
To the masked strangers
so my masked friends repeat the lies
My symphony shrieks the anger I’ve barred
One too many times
and because of this all these people bare it too
My joy floats out on the eighth note
And twinkles on the sixteenth
which suddenly changes their angry mood
The sorrow pours out of my symphony
And onto the masked guest
suddenly suffocating them in their own misery
My symphony flows through the body
It reawakens the dead
And brings life to the living

A TwIsTeD masquerade
For my
My
BiTtEr-SwEeT
Symphony