The Jester's Fate

Tear stained marks upon a painted face,
Bells ringing freely but sorrow sounds out,
Strangled words never leave that forced voice,
Trapped forever in this world of fakery.

Tell me of the jester,
Who leaps and prances on command,
Bound by not strings nor words,
But chains and crowned threats.

Labeled a fool for all to see,
Facades and trickery his bread and butter,
Always a joke and nothing more,
A toy, a tool for all to use.

Madness within madness,
His only asset left to utilize,
Slowly evaporating his own soul,
Soon turning him not into a puppet but the lunatic.

The rambling fool that no longer pretends,
His shattered insanity in mere pieces,
Yet everything remains the same,
His suffering and inner death never known.

Tear stained marks upon a once painted face,
Bella rang freely but sorrow sounded out,
Strangled words never left that forced voice,
Trapped forever in this world of foolery.