The killer's show goes on tonight, and I await my secret entrance in the wings. He will be burned, but will not die. Today, he will feel a lick of heat; as a small fire will burn his skin, replenishing my devilish thirst for sweet revenge. The fire will hold him in it's furious arms for only a small moment in time. Yet still somehow, I will feel a sense of pathetic accomplishment as my loyal minions(the flames) will soon dance ruggedly across his flesh. Sadly though, this freshly burned killer could never possibly be introduced to the slightest bit of death that has seeped like ink into my skin. Forever and eternity to be stained with bitterness. Blocking out all light with it's dark sinister presence. As his bestowed gift of ink combs over happiness, and carves out the shape of my foolish lingering hope. Immortally bound onto this earth my soul will be. So laugh at this preformance, by this so-called professional but do not be fooled. He will stay at the door of my morgue with selfishness. To be sure that the soul that he had once stole can never find it's freedom again. Never to have relief. The only pleasure-some thing is, he will sit alone. Next to another being, but still alone. Only to be forgotten, yet I, always to be remembered. So give my murderer an encore, for he has felt he has succeeded in pleasing tonights audience.
In the meantime, he stands center stage unaware that he is seen to others in nothing more than a jester's costume. He stares ignorantly satisfied with his illusion of an audience while I deviously prepare for my act. He slowly peeks through the curtain with a smile, but then sees only one set of familiar eyes. the rest of the theatre's seats were empty. Though he still reserves the seats, for he is sure that the others will come and watch.
So then I go on with my invisible act for that is my q. I call it the Burning man. I do not applause for I am ashamed of my act. But a secret smile is held on my face, because my killer did not see my invisible preformance and continued on with his ridiculous show. At the end, he looked out again, but to find that his audience of one, has took on the shape of a mirror. He frowns at his reflection. He is left to look at only that, as the brilliant red curtain lowers down. Leaving him to be forever at center stage with loneliness. He finally crumbles down to his knees, and feels my fire. Suddenly, he now can hear the bells softly jingling on his jester's hat.
I frame the program from tonight's show forever.