Masked

Figures turn and float rhythmically
Arm in arm across the gleaming floor
Behind the long, elegant dresses and tall, dark suits
An unseen shadow passes through the grand door

Toward the tables, past the dancing
He strides to a single glass
The perfect night for a masquerade
For the murderer behind a mask

Through the crowd he goes unseen
Following a well planned route
And then in one fast and well planned move
Revenge is carried out

The vile is empty, the deed is done
And with a smile he turns to the door
Minutes later, there is no longer dancing
But murder upon the floor.

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