Absolution, my little albatross...do you not need it now?
'I have done nothing sinful to redeem, minister.'
Albatross, you have said things unwholesome...
'My words are ever as true as yours, minister.'
Are we ever to be in a catch-22, albatross?
'We are ever to be in a web of deceit, minister.
We are opportunistic fools, you and I...leaders,
led by the dance of false gods...we are damned
to dance every day, every night...we love it.'
Albatross, which of us leads in this dance?
'Oh! You do! Unless I condemn your moves...'
You would never do that, for I am of the Holy.
'You stay the fool. I only tolerate you, minister.'
'I will turn on you, when it serves my purpose.'
The strains of the Mephisto Waltz began...
Oh! How they danced, minced, around
Each the other...as the tribe watched,
Listened, to that suicide music of madness...
The minister, golden sun denied, twirled
The albatross in chains...and the mask
Lifted from both...but much too late...
Blood flowed, as truth went down the
Drain...
The Mephisto Waltz played on...
Shrouding inferiority with delusions
Of superiority....and the devil watched
The sand in the hourglass....certainty.
elysabeth faslund
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-mephisto-waltz/
