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I've always loved circus, the laughter, the music, the colors But this one... it was the jugglers I was watching them throwing up pins and ball's I used to be able to do that, and I found some and the applause started But not from the audience It seemed to be from the jugglers, but the sound was too tedious They only had two hands but it seemed hideous It was in my head And left this dread I tried to continue but each clown looked the same They blended and I felt like a carousel moving round and round, it Seemed to be a claim I ran, tripping, to look in the mirror, but all I saw was a performer It was torture The white makeup seemed to stick I clawed at my face, wetting it in the sink But when I looked at my hands There was nothing on them, and my face still had the paints The smile was still there When it looked in the mirror, it wasn't the same, not even its hair This strange feeling deep inside it made it walk And it walked out and looked down, waiting for it, was a pair of juggling Pins, it tried to talk But it couldn't It didn't have any vocal cords to make the sound anything to quote And it walked back up to the stage And kept its smile Staring out into the crowded The people didn't even notice they were surrounded By strangers Strangers that would bring in people that loved the circus They always ended up the best parts of the act With her keeping them there Unknown of its snare That she keeps, the strings that pull them to dance They never had a chance Not against her "Joey" The skinless clown, The victor of the circus, The bear of the circus, Nikola Orsniov
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Mar 19
Mar 19, 2026 at 12:37 AM UTC
The Circus Of The Other. (Tsirk drugogo)
I've always loved circus, the laughter, the music, the colors But this one... it was the jugglers I was watching them throwing up pins and ball's I used to be able to do that, and I found some and the applause started But not from the audience It seemed to be from the jugglers, but the sound was too tedious They only had two hands but it seemed hideous It was in my head And left this dread I tried to continue but each clown looked the same They blended and I felt like a carousel moving round and round, it Seemed to be a claim I ran, tripping, to look in the mirror, but all I saw was a performer It was torture The white makeup seemed to stick I clawed at my face, wetting it in the sink But when I looked at my hands There was nothing on them, and my face still had the paints The smile was still there When it looked in the mirror, it wasn't the same, not even its hair This strange feeling deep inside it made it walk And it walked out and looked down, waiting for it, was a pair of juggling Pins, it tried to talk But it couldn't It didn't have any vocal cords to make the sound anything to quote And it walked back up to the stage And kept its smile Staring out into the crowded The people didn't even notice they were surrounded By strangers Strangers that would bring in people that loved the circus They always ended up the best parts of the act With her keeping them there Unknown of its snare That she keeps, the strings that pull them to dance They never had a chance Not against her "Joey" The skinless clown, The victor of the circus, The bear of the circus, Nikola Orsniov
this is based of the Magnus archives and Nikola Orsinov I kinda gave up ryhmeing at the end but who cares
7-Flavors-Of-Bones
Written by
14/Inside a mannequin
Mar 19
Mar 19, 2026 at 12:37 AM UTC
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