The lights shine bright,
on the flowing streets.
As people gorge themselves,
with fulfilling eats.

Giant heads ride,
on passing floats.
Followed by bands,
playing up lifting notes.

A parade of colors,
and a sight to behold.
Purples and greens,
and shining gold.

Harlequins move,
in a jesteral dance.
As floats carry women,
in their waving stance.

A glittering mask,
covers every face.
Of the many people,
in this crowded place.

As the last float passes,
a silence falls.
The people behind,
stand in a staring pause.

In the empty street,
a lone figure walks.
Lumbering slowly forward,
on legs like stalks.

A harlequin in black,
and dark purple tights.
Lacking the silvers and golds,
that sparkle in the lights.

A faint tink of bells,
with every step it takes.
No sound otherwise,
with every move it makes.

Forward it walks,
not turning its head.
Among the crowds,
not a word is said.

Its horrible mask,
catches all stares.
Afraid to comment,
nobody dares.

A porcelain mask,
of purple and black.
Shining protrusions,
extend outward and back.

A countance of fear,
with an illusion of teeth.
What hideous face,
would need hide beneath.

All music silent,
all floats gone.
Followed by eyes,
it continues on.

To the end of the street,
as fear fills the mind.
It pauses unmoving,
with all crowds behind.

Raising its hands,
and removing the mask.
The crowd held still,
by this simple task.

Mask held in the air,
the figure turns fast.
Bending its knee,
and face seen at last.

Its head side to side,
as it looks at the crowd.
The jingle of the bells,
on its hat grows loud.

With a sudden move backward,
the people gasp for a breath.
As they fill with the terror,
from the face of Death.

Lowering to a kneel,
it throws the mask down.
Shattering loudly,
when hitting the ground.

The figure surrounded,
by a eruption of smoke.
Covered unseen,
in a thick, black cloak.

Terrified eyes,
watch unblinking.
Mouths open wide,
without thinking.

The cloud of smoke disperses,
to reveal empty space.
No longer the figure,
and hideous face.

The unmoving crowd,
frozen in fear.
The unthinkable thought,
of Death so near.

The disappearance,
slightly eases the mind.
But still a reminder,
that they are blind.

No trace of the mask,
no bits on the ground.
But still in the air,
a faint jingling sound.