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Maniacal Mannequins

The Victory Feast

By AphoticPublished about a year ago 2 min read

Stacking bodies on bodies, blue and red

Monochrome beings, with humanoid features

Mannequins sorted all plastic and dead

The uncanny valley, the hideous creatures

The red were our friends, the blue were our foes

How they came to be plastic nobody knows

A stack for the red, a stack for the blue

The pattern, alternating throughout the room

When they were living they looked just like us

As soon as they perished they turned into thus

The war finally over, gymnasium sorted

I see from the balcony, their bodies contorted

Comrades reuniting after the war

Emerge from the battle in grey corridors

From one of the halls, a young man emerges

And steps into where the corridor converges

His face I recognize from a long time before

He looks like his brother whom I used to adore

Randomly too, from another grey hall

Emerges a man I can barely recall

I’ve seen him before, I’m just not sure of where

With his coke bottle glasses, and unruly hair

A foreign tv show, that’s where I’ve seen him

An actor, I’m sure of it now, what’s the meaning?

He acts like a friend that I’ve known for ages

And soon I forget that we ever were strangers

“There’s a feast being held in world 232

To celebrate triumph over the blue”

We stepped into the elevator, high on victory

Instead of 232, I punched 233

And when the doors parted, such horrors revealed

A malformed beast lunged from a gruesome red field

The doors started closing, the creature drew near

We escaped just in time, as it’s cries grew severe

This time I entered the number in true

And when the doors opened I gasped at the view

A mountainous backdrop, a field in between

A house on a hill surrounded by green

Happily forward we all made our way

To the house on the hill where our supper was made

Inside was the feast all prepared on a table

We started to eat, our appetites insatiable

We feasted on chicken and magical pies

That made us invisible to each other’s eyes

My skin turning red, I started to panic

And looked to our hosts who were suddenly manic

I squinted my eyes, my vision now blurred

What I thought I was seeing was far too absurd

Our hosts started peeling away at their skin

Revealing a horrible sight there within

Paralyzed by the poison they put in our food

We fell to the floor, nothing else we could do

I looked up in horror, death’s walls closing in

As victory went to the blue mannequins.

surreal poetry

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