Naked Dance

There was a courteous knock occasionally

They tiptoed or just barged in, usually

A few of them were expected, almost welcome

While the rest rapidly spread like venom.

Unabashedly, they caroused

Making a mess of my guest house

I tumbled about to find my way

Overwhelmed and lost in the melee.

The guests soon felt warmer and set a new order

And silenced me into a joyless corner

They waltzed like masqueraders in a carnival

I had had enough! I popped open my arsenal.

I ripped the painted masks off their parade

Like ripping a wound off a band-aid

To reveal, to heal, to expose the faces beneath

And off fell, their laurel wreaths.

Her real name was Grief, she confessed

In the garb of Anger she had serenaded

Then there was Insecurity, Guilt and Shame

Jealousy and Ego, their given names.

I stepped down from my moral high horse

I pulled down the roof; broke down the walls

I danced naked in the wind, melting under the sun

Like the Tabula Rasa*, my house now pure and pristine.

* Tabula Rasa: A word of Latin origin meaning a clean or blank slate