Wrath of the Circus

The bellowing trumpets, flying roses, and children’s laughter spill out in the banana parade. 

Ladies and gentlemen, people of all ages, let me embrace you with our mythological circus. 

The soulless acrobat without a vein walks a tightrope. 

The troubled trapeze artist steals the show with his limping courage. 

The drunken clown dazzles many with her sensual walk. 

The smell of popcorn, cotton candy clouds, and fountains of syrup are in front of your nostrils. 

The strongest man is weakened by the lack of attention. 

The flickering lights rage over the roar of the crowd. 

The juggler is balancing his demons and forgotten joys. 

The tiger isn’t tamed by his master but the cage the audience constructed. 

The vultures, ravens, and lovebirds lose their feathers in this affair of the entertainment. 

Your senses will be heightened and realities will vanish for a three hour show. 

Step inside the monsoon and feel the wrath of the apocalyptical circus. 

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