Mask

The covering of my physical radiates the expression of my character.

Minute past by as the twilight softens the light rays.

Another night. Another forces of thoughts penetrates and animates my mind with tears.

I put on a thoughtful mask, a prototype of my many characteristics.

Not able to speak, words form phrases of individuate questions.

I am a visionary without the right aspect to see past the simplicity.

 

Mediating on my past, time pass the present but not yet to the future.

Arteries clot in my heart, mixed emotions stream in the bitter pain,

the feeling of segregation cannot be distilled out. I lean into my dreams,

the colours are darken, not able to define a stroke of brush in the art gallery of my dreams.

Scars of depression, as the wounds still bleeds through my soul.

Waking up to the morning star, hidden mask of my pain constructs over my sorrows.

I smile to world till the night brings it's unknown.

Reviews

Well David, you got here a fine poem, perfect.
Sometimes, masks are the pil to survive, other times,
they only make things worser...
I love your ending, it reminds me of my mask triology

E.L.