The sea of faces,
None so real as the others,
Hiding behind these physical faces, are the real ones?
The most beautiful ones may yet be
A mask none the less.
We are masked monsters hiding
Under the empty smiles, hard angers,
Like a vacant soul I wander knowing not
With what to fill the deep crevase
That hails violently asking to be filled
Deep in me like a hungry hyena
That scours around looking for the dead
When many are alive around.