The clown stalks his prey, laughing like a lunatic
The distant light of humiliation sounds of agony
Slice through the patterns of lunacy
I am forever he whispers
To the very he that he is
To say it, is to become it .the sisters of the night, gather
For the dance of destruction
He sits alone, the fear crippling him to overshadow him.
His eyes open, the crimson, to touch, to feel, to see
Does he know the secret that are kept silent except on the winged vigilant and his mass sorrow
The circus lullaby plays reminding the senseless that the tiger is coming
Close your eyes and see, that he is not what he was he is more, but becoming less
He knows nothing
Fading away into the night, his breath takes on images that no one can possible understand
His reflection is unfamiliar
Strange becoming stranger
Fading until gone
Confetti with no sense of purpose
Except to be discarded
Carrie Ann kawa 10/2002
thought it was apt 
Nice usage of words ,and made me think.
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