the observer's sin

The parade of sinners is a spinning circle
A soothing loop for an adequate observer like me
The performers entangle on a king's message
My feet dangle on wind's passage
From high heights
My eyes blind watch the hidden faces

I am at the peak of my lonely nights
I am at the peak of my selfish mind
Heavier at each evil I overlook on the loop below

I hear
Cracks

But I am yet too far to face judgement
Doomed am I if I ever fall
My feet won't dance on that muddy swamp

There
My loop of sinners
My entertaining facade of desperate souls