Carousel of Nothing.

Trust -

Made of glass, not stone.
Withered and worn.
Tattered and torn.
Dragged along the floor
And thrown in some corner
Along with feeling, empathy and common sense.

Who's next?
Who's next to sit on this carousel of nothing?
That's all there is now
To find and take
To bend and break
To match your fake
Complimenting all the empty words you clutch in your pockets.

Seats
All laid out just for you.
To enjoy the final show.
To happily misconstrue.
Dance to teach them how it's done,
How to trickle in to fill the costumes
Cut out of transparency
That hugs the soul and defies nature when they wear it.

Thought
Escapes all those who enter now.
Filling an abyss with apathy.
Somewhere there are questions
Like lost sounds.
Floating to surround.
Wrapping their tails round.
But somehow missing a neck.

If this carnival has been fun
Return when you're done
We'll throw stones at each other again.
Or next time we'll have guns
For faster, better, bigger wounds
Because anyway, there's no more blood left to spill.