The mask is cold.
It stifles, it smothers.
But the world is cruel.
It shields me from the others.
.
The mask is cold.
It stifles, it smothers.
But the mask is stable.
It hides me from the others.
.
“To feel sadness is weakness.
Depression is a failure of the will.
Despair is a lack of manliness.”
Yet these maladies plague me still.
.
Like the mateless wolf,
into the night, I want to howl.
But none would hear the call,
so weakly, from the shadows, I growl.
.
The Darkness stalks me.
I feel its cold breath upon my neck.
For the mask I reach.
But all the while, the Darkness infects.
.
“You are not alone,” they say.
“There are many among us the same way.”
This clutches at an even greater fear, deep in my soul:
we are all drowning in the black waters without a lifeboat.
.
Red eyes stare at me from the shadows,
fangs glistening in a sickening grin.
With every doubt, every fear it grows.
Every shout, every tear is its kin.
.
We are hunted, you and I.
Everywhere with us it shall go.
Its aim is not for us to die,
but for us to wish it so.
.
“The mask! The mask shall save me,”
I cry in the face of the beast.
Yes, it hides my vulnerabilities
from those who scorn.
But also those who could remedy.
.
The shield grows burdensome,
and I grow tiresome.
It offers calmness, stability,
but emptiness, futility.
In the balance hangs my sanity.
.
My blemishes are concealed
but with them my true self.
Who I am, I can no longer tell
within this voluntary hell.
.
The red eyes gleam at my confusion.
I can feel them even now.
My constant comrade now disillusion.
To fight it all, I know not how.
.
“To feel sadness is weakness.
Depression is a failure of the will.
Despair is a lack of manliness.”
Yet these maladies plague me still.
.
The mask cracked, I am lost.
Moments of happiness fleeting.
Without a purpose, without a cause,
I admit my defeat.
.
Author's Note
Written a decade ago. I am much better now 😌
And the first step to making it here was to refuse to wear the mask anymore.
About the Creator
Stephen A. Roddewig
Author of A Bloody Business and the Dick Winchester series. Proud member of the Horror Writers Association 🐦⬛
Also a reprint mercenary. And humorist. And road warrior. And Felix Salten devotee.
And a narcissist:
Keep reading
More stories from Stephen A. Roddewig and writers in Poets and other communities.
Bruce Lee and The God of War: Kuan Ti
It starts with love.. The Power to the God Of War and Wealth Walk into a Chinese restaurant (even in Oklahoma, USA), a Chinese police station, a kung fu martial arts studio or even a Chinese temple and you often see a red faced warrior holding a heavy quan-do (spear like weapon).
By WILD WAYNE : The Dragon King6 days ago in Chapters
Comments (4)
Amazing writing, it absolutely lets the reader know where you were emotionally and in what state. Love so many of these lines.
Written a decade ago? Why is so much of your poetry from the past?! This is so good, Stephen. "The shield grows burdensome, and I grow tiresome. It offers calmness, stability, but emptiness, futility. In the balance hangs my sanity." Beautiful rhyming in this stanza. And what a self-aware piece, despite it clearly having been written during a tumultuous time. That ending is so sad, though...as I've been there. Bravo, sir.
Oh, nice, Stephen <3
Stephen and poetry?!? How could we be so lucky?