The moment they turn

An eye tattooed on the forehead
Enlightenment molded in deception.
Revelation,
that a missionary goes to conquer,
hearts and whole countries.
Nothing separable,
if you distance yourself from it far enough.
Buried, buried, buried
in the ground until the grass grows over it.
I wish I could speak frankly.
but not ever
has me even one soul enduring long enough
what droll whining
lacking long lasting meaning
usually trips out of their mouth,
forms little liquid bubbles,
when you act your heart
in front of the masses
out
for adequate applause.
In hindsight
I guess it was the only plausible outcome
that the show’s over,
further installments cancelled,
if you then dare to really wriggle
with intend to rip the curtains off.
I am sorry, that I had to see
your true face.