Nihilist

The edge of a knife

From a rusted handle

Skims the carpet

Of a room where darkness

Outreaches like vines of fear

the tiny pulses

of creeping fireflies

barely shining their aimless path

dancing outside a large window

That blends the black leaves

Of a midnight forest

With the blue spotlight of the moon

Watching over with the stars

the stars

in scattered rows

to view the next act

The world will play

On a stage for attention

Can get their names cheered

From the other side of the theatre

The bright side of the world

A stage of life

Where mistakes are made

And purpose is found

As a gift of confidence

Glosses the talent

And through taps and code

When they share a photo

A moment in time

That was worth crafting as a mask

For the audience

The world to see

And if an act is performed

Without a single eye to glance

The action is undone

And the actor

Along a red carpet

Silked with honesty