apacolyptic pleasures

The world ended in a grotesque burlesque
Where masks were held more tightly than clothes
And broken toys led the dance
I dared make eye contact with the King of Dreams
Before He slipped out the door
And released me to my purpose
Retrieving my dropped emblem of fealty
From the narcissistic skeleton
I woke to find 
The world remains
Painted black and 
Ringing
With carols of good cheer