Annual Asylum

Festive Bastille
Blood line strangers
Contrived Celebrations
Sense the danger

Relative inmates
Climbing the walls
Arguments a plenty
Impending wars

Black hole of insanity
Tempers frayed
Minds ready to break
Slipping Masquerade

A glass of veracity
Gulped down like a serum
Tongues loosened
Now nothing can stop them

Home truths unwrapped
Decorated with accusations and verbal blows
Crusade of destruction
Queen’s speech in the background
Speaking of her empathy for the year’s lows

A war torn lounge
Dodging verbal artillery
Peacekeepers enlisted
“Save the crockery!”

Arbitration fails
The front door slams
Relief fills the room
Annual sacrificial lambs

Anger turns to a sense of mourning
As we realize another wasted year
And although it is now calm in the Asylum
I shed a tear