He wanted to throw off his disguise, swing
from the chandelier over the crowd, drop
down on the dais sword drawn, one swing
away from decapitation, one drop
of a headless corpse to the ground and
his comrades, the Guardians, avenged.
He gripped the cane that supported him and
bandages pulled against wounds unavenged.
Masked dancers moved beneath the chandelier
whose light glistened off their costumed faces.
One girl in wine cast her eyes without fear
at the betrayer she stalked. Her laces
hid a surprise he guessed but her quarry
retired, leaving her an unknown story.
~ ~ ~
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This sonnet was written for: Imaginary Garden With Real Toads’ prompt “Chandelier” by Sia