The Carousel

The Carousel

The carousel goes round and round,

I sit on spooky horses, making no sound.

Their eyes are hollow, hearts are stone,

Riding in circles, but I’m alone.

The music hums, but it’s off-key,

A tune too old, too lost to see.

The lights flicker, then fade away,

As time slips through the cracks of day.

The horses spin, their shadows long,

They never stop, but they don’t belong.

Their hooves don’t hit the earth below,

They glide through air, as if in woe.

The rider’s face is veiled in mist,

A forgotten prayer, a broken twist.

And as the horses creak and sigh,

I wonder if the carousel will die.

But still it spins, a twisted dream,

An endless loop, a silent scream.

I sit, unblinking, caught in place,

A ghost on horseback, lost in space.