A stranger may look on in wonder, Curious of its splendor. They may ask, "Who made this mask?" And With a heavy sigh, I'll curtly reply: "The mask is of my own design, I made it faultless, line by line."
They'll look on in perplex. Then comment next, "What purpose does it serve?" My answer, "To preserve." They'll give a questioning look, And my eyes will be those of a crooke. "To preserve a broken state, Which has been rather ill of late. Behind this mask, Lies an ungodly task. The broken soul, Is ***** as coal. The bleeding heart, Needs a jump start. The shattered mind, Could use a new shine...
But to speak of more, Is to open a horrendous door. There is so much pain, Anyone else would fain."
They'll continue to stare at me, "May i ask.. if I may see?"
I'll pause. And think. Before I speak, "If I let you behind my mask, There is but one thing I ask. Look around with care, I can't take another tear."