The Mask of Independence.

Welcome to the show.

I'm very glad you're here.

If you take the time to read my ryhme I'll tell you what I fear.

My mask creates a shroud of sorts.

A layer of deciet. 

The depths of which conceal my niche and keep it all discreet.

The outside of my noumenon. 

Shows a distant, comic man.

While the inside, I do confide, hides most of what it can.

My fear is called dependence.

A sin of my own mind.

For if I find I've interwined I'll surely end up blind.

And so I wear autonomy.

A mask of seperation.

When all I need is indeed a fix for desperation.