Curtains Of Deceit
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A Man's Traveled Heart
The curtains rose and music played. The crowd swelled with anticipation and stood in a quick fever of applause. The scene before them was magical; masks, magicians, singers, and dancers, packed the stage with such enchantment.
It was a spectacle of such marvel, flames and lights waltzed with such brilliance. The mashing of such mystical performance could almost be tasted. It had a sense of living, as if what was being watched was more than what was being seen.
Like a droplet of illusion had been placed upon the tongue. The breeze of phenomenon occupied the eyes of the audience. Not a single moment of dissatisfaction tainted their posture, they were enthralled beyond the absolute.
Cheers roared, tears poured with pure elation of satisfaction to the wonder before them. Some, even joined in the dances from the seats of their view. Holding hands, minding no tale of deceit from any they danced beside.
Euphoria had taken the crowd, all with smiles that stretched almost too auspiciously. Their eyes became a capillary of frothing joy, but were hazed in anesthesia of a phantom like stare. Hypnotized they seemed as they swayed in perfect unity, side by side, missing no rhythm of music.
Suddenly the performance drew to an end. Applause was given one last time, but not a single word was exchanged from the audience. They had departed the theater with respect, but with utter silence. And as they left through the exit and crowded the streets.
They were instantly seized by what was waiting for them upon their withdraw of the show. Large banners and flags hung from the highest buildings in their city. Men in vehicles armed as if in war, rushed through the streets. Arresting people from the theater at what appeared to be at random.
But I knew, as I passed by in the allies, that this was no accident, this was no aimless action of whom they arrested. This had been planed behind the curtains the people so eagerly enjoyed.
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