Dynasty.

The bastard son, Happiness,

Born of Myth and Dream

Hides behind a fragile mask.

Enough to make one scream.

Faux faces aplenty.

Comedic not the least.

Jests at one with apathy.

Intangibly, it feasts.

Outstretched wings, to welcome him.

this Loki which one covets.

A laugh away, for fleeting glimpse.

Temporal acknowledgement of brother.

So readily available,

this person known as Sorrow.

The full-blooded emoticon,

and one’s eternal shadow.

Infuriating as a paper wasp

their knowledge of one another.

How exotic when their paths may cross,

for neither choose to follow.

The true iconic dynasty

to rule the hearts of all.

Yet, bastard brother, Happiness

Would rather watch it fall.