Virulent Joy

In the flower garden of duplicity,

where the roses bloom sweetness

while the thorns repel the takers,
a serpent's smile coils around the redness of heart,
whispering secrets of carnivorous delight in the shadows.

And like the wolf's fang-laden smile
as it watches the lamb stumble,
or the flicker of a candle in a storm,
hoping for the wind to snuff it out,

a raven’s caw echoes through the night,
mocking the silence of the moon,
the glint in the eye of the tent-preaching evangelist,

 the followers of hyperbole fall to their knees in adulation.

And then there is…

The laughter of a  storm
as it tears through the township,
the smirk of the ocean
as it swallows the drifting ship whole,

a spider's weaving-dance of deceitful webs,
 while the fire's crackle consumes the forest,
the obliterating smile of the chess master
as the opponent's king falls.

Yes…

It is the joy of the hunter
as the prey falters,
the spurious grin of the fox,
as it outwits the hound.

The whisper of the erratic breeze
as it topples the house of cards,
the gleam in the cat’s eye
as it toys with the mouse,

 the smirk of the sun
as it scorches the earth,
the chuckle of the frost
as it bites the skin.

A vulture's feast,
on the carcass of hope,
the dance of the flames,
as they devour the dreams,

the grin of the clock,
as it ticks away the final moments.

How undetected…

This realm of forever disguised shadows
where malicious joy reigns
in twisted celebrations
of another's pain.