An eclipse right at noon, Daylight faded in swift. The whirl of life, haphazardly, spun— The night came before the shade could lift.
He picked a mask he liked; Never did he take it off. Blood changed, adrenaline spiked— By a stranger, he himself was kicked off.
This stranger lived with a new face; Some were disturbed by his change. In every test, he'd ace— A lock one would never hinge.
He exists still, but not there; Doesn't care about the world. Yet thinks himself to be fair, A repeated mistake too old.
And he shall know Of the mishaps he conceived. The melancholic days—a fierce blow; In no respect was he healed.
That, he knew too, very clear; His soul had long been tainted to care. When asked for "the real you"—a sharp spear On masks of previous spin, could he stare.
One day, a new air— This stranger was then caught. He sought an urge he couldn't bear, Struck by the truthful Failnaught.
Once you start wearing a mask, you lose "you" When you take the mask off, a question arises— Is this also a mask?