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Feb 2015
I can only speak
Through masks
My cowardice pulls me back
Into the inky darkness
Even my ******* desire for you
I must conceal
In the haze of bravado and apathy
And the clawing ache
Your gaze summons
I must suppress
With the very essence of my spirit

Forgive me
For what kind man
Would resort to such craven means
Just to bare his very soul?
Surely not one worthy of you.

The Lion's heritage
Compels me and curses me
To the bitter fate
Of wandering the halls
Of lonely perfection
Eternity upon eternity

A duplicitous nature
Earns curses
But I am grateful
For the gift of masks
Without which
Truth dies.
To the geisha.

"Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth." - Oscar Wilde
Nevermore
Written by
Nevermore  M/Asia
(M/Asia)   
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