The Scream

Screaming Mannequins Eyes huddled in fear, that paralyzing fear in front of the bullets mercilessly sprayed, deeply sprayed by some cruelty, which is fed up with a lot of victims, those defenseless victims of hate, a dreadful hate, which is fed up with a little love as well as a little pleasure can be fed up with a lot of pain, that extreme pain, which embellishes the madness, a round and seemingly nonexistent madness being like a strange cold having many moisturized rosy-red, rosy-red ring-shaped patches associated with a giant Quincke swelling and with a boisterous cooling noisy breath, that snorting breath like a groaning song, a love song for a dance of death, that painful death for all the hot puppets, beautiful puppets becoming cold wax mannequins, those mannequins screaming in their red rain of feelings, those red feelings coloring a few sad moments, cool moments of many winter fires those burning fires in the lost caves of shadows. Poem by Marieta Maglas