Masked Men

The world was split into two-

The blacks and whites, the rights (?) and wrongs (?),

Yin and Yang.

The world was split into two,

And on the bifurcation stood the Masked Men.

They looked alike, dressed alike,

and mirrored each other-expressions and all,

Aimless, nameless, ageless and tainted,

Molded to survive vicissitudes, withal.

These masks like any other, were vested with power,

They twisted and blended with the faces of Normals.

Normals in turn, were the epitome of naivety,

With translucent skin, translucent flesh, and translucent blood,

And facial muscles that contracted too often.

Death, tears, and heartbroken Normals,

Is that a smile I can sense?

Successful, warm, and ecstatic Normals,

Is that disapproval I hear?

The bifurcation is where the truth is never revealed,

Masks are meant to hide, protect…. Or deceive?

The Masked Men were the puppeteers of the two worlds,

Pulling the strings and tugging at hearts,

While their hearts remain untouched and their faces unmoved.

Until, minutes became hours and hours days,

More masks- here, there and everywhere.

The world was split into two,

And on both sides stood the Masked Men.