A mask…

Such a simple thing, really…

A mask.

Used to represent a character

In a theatre,

Or for children’s amusement

On holidays…

But aren’t all masks

Made for a common purpose…

To conceal one’s true identity…?

I’ve worn a mask…

Resided in its murky confines

For so long…

How can I feel safe without it?

How can anyone

Behold my true self

And not turn immediately away

In revolution?

Is it not the height of vanity

To stain a pure, innocent spirit

With the horrid visage

Of me…

Maskless…?

What vanity!

To expect

A pure, naïve soul

To willingly gaze upon

The filthy likes of me!

What nerve!

What wretched selfishness!

No…

I’ll stay…

Confined.

I’ll remain…

A prisoner.

A prisoner of my mask.

And wistfully gaze after

Those pure, untainted souls…

With unholy evny.

Knowing them

As they will never know me.

Here I’ll remain…

In my mask.

My solitude.

My prison.

Why yes, I am a 'Phantom of the Opera' fan... Inspired by Pol-kun-the-Wicked's 'Maskless' and WritesWithInkPoisonAndBlood's 'I Will No Longer be Inedequate'.

Please reveiw, flames welcome.

Purrs,

Frenchie-chan