The Burning Mask

The face I've painted over my own...

throughout this torturous course of time,

is not of conceit.

It simply matches its surroundings,

an adaptive camouflage...

simply for the sake of "fitting in".

whatever the hell that means...

What I'm hiding,

the rage that results from powerlessness

yielding only to the mask on my face...

a true constant beyond the limit of my control

I keep from the public for its own good,

both the public's and mine‐

behind this burning mask

is a Burning Paradise.

This place I can't get away from,

but need an escape from more than anything else.

All that burns hotter than the sun,

thoughts I cannot voice

and is more blinding than such as well...

feelings I cannot reveal

behind the walls of this burning mask

I'm suffocating in these fumes I'm running on

a living, recurring, nightmare.

I'd much rather write of something else...

but this is what's on my heart,

what's left of it that is

I'd rather tell of something different

but this is what's on my mind,

one of one million and one notions constantly at war

such is life behind this burning mask...

this hatred flows from my heart burning the man that stands in my mirror

such is the hell of this Burning Paradise.

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Thank You For Reading!!

Here are some other very similar stories of mine! :)