The Moon Is My Mask
At the annual New Years Masquerade,
I will have acquired a Mask of material that
No one has ever seen before.
It has taken years to find such fabric,
Such that the fabric has never come into contact
With society's polluted paparazzi eyes.
It came to me one night in despair
Asking me
Begging me, to follow its spirit.
I followed the light for miles and then came to a crossroad.
It was either down or up,
But I could not see the light for my mask had suddenly constricted me.
I could not breathe.
I could not believe.
My hands grasped my head as I screamed in pain.
I did not realize I had ripped up my model hair
Until it fell in locks to to the ground.
There was only Me and the Mask now.
Nothing but the straps that still chocked and
So I kept pulling at my skull
Until I felt the knot.
The knot of strings that could be pulled so easily,
Revealed so easily, if only people believed.
I pulled.
It was so bright,
Like new-born eyes seeing their destructor for the first time.
But this was not the Matrix.
I still had to walk up the ladder
Because I could see the Spirit waiting
Patiently
For me to still come... And I did.
I followed it up to the moon,
The Spirit grapped my hand then and
Dipped it into the moon's milky surface
Coating my in its reflection.
No! I screamed.
I did not want another image cast upon me by some other power.
But then the Spirit whispered to me:
"But look child, the moon is is just a reflection of the sun"
Its light is the sun's light
So your moon mask will be your light,
Your reflection,
Your Mask,
of see through"
And at the Masquerade,
Everyone saw through.
I may have been bald but I was more beautiful than anything
I had ever been taught to see.
Then there was the pulling of more locks and
Uprisings started against the strings.
I cried tears of joy because finally we could see
And we saw in jsut enough time to stop the ticking time bomb of our destrctors.
We could finally see that the moon is our Mask,
And that's the only Mask we'll ever need.
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