This extremely long poem was the result...
Everyone wears a mask, concealing themselves within a costume
While their greedy hands reach out for candy
He observes it behind the veil
Falling over his features, hiding his expression
Never letting on that he’s watching you
Seeing your hungry, mocking gleam in your eyes
A glint of the truth you conceal behind your own mask
No one else has ever noticed this sinister light
You remain the urbane gentleman, Lord Fox
Carved whiskers and sly features from an old fable
Laughing at the obvious joke, which is no joke
You’re the perfect host, so generous with the sweets you pass around
None of your guests have noticed you’re fattening them up
Yet you enjoy the party and the party-goers company
Studying the plump forms squeezed within their costumes
The meaning in the guises they’ve chosen to don
Prince, queen, fool, or beast
Each desperate attempt to transform themselves into something interesting
You conceal your smirk until your attention is caught by him
Quiet, not mingling, yet watching you
How could you not have noticed his presence?
How different he is from everyone else
Capturing the reflection of your true self within his changeling eyes
Eyes which are the result of neither contact lenses nor costume
If anything he’s hiding behind that plain white veil
Trying so hard not to be noticed
As if anyone could hide from you at your parties
Once you catch their scent
His is spicy sweet with fear and madness
Is he enemy, victim, or could he be something more precious?
You find yourself putting on a show for him
Twirling your whiskers with a little more elegance
As you dance with those who pretend to be ladies, pressing them against your broad chest
As you flirt with those who pretend to be gentlemen, teasing them to the point of forgetting their manners
Charming everyone else, pretending to be something, humouring their sense of importance
All the while you feel his intense gaze, watching you play your games
Why does he stop the party?
Scream a warning about what you truly are?
You are every bit the fox you pretend to be
Every guest is your duck, hen, or rabbit
Why doesn’t he cry out to your hapless victims?
Perhaps he senses no one would listen
Every duck loves being flattered by a fox
Every rabbit feels special caught in a predator’s gaze
It’s too much like the eye of an attentive lover
Sending intense shivers down the spine
Horror mingles with disgust, yet that’s not all
He shouldn’t enjoy watching you play with your food
Only he’s seen too much of your guests without their costumes
Endured the brunt of their banality and petty cruelty
He sees them use their costumes to flaunt of a false sense of importance
Well, you’ve made each and every one of them feel important
He’s never mocked them himself, although he’s often wished to
Now you’re here, granting his heart’s desire
It’s difficult to hate you, in all your menacing charm
Even though he might well be next
The next rabbit, the next duck to be crushed between your jaws
Yes, he looks tender and crushable, but his insight intrigues you
You’re not quite ready to eat him, no, not yet
So you put on a lovely, cruel show
Slipping away into the shadows with a few of the guests
They don’t return, but you return with a platter
A casual smile and a joke about the meat being fresh
You’re not sure if he’s guessed the entirety of what you’re up to
Yet still he remains at your party amidst the rest of the prey
Stepping from shadow to shadow, watching flirt and lure
Always staying a little out of reach.
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