Saturday, June 30, 2007

"Behind my Mask"

Nobody sees behind the mask
Uninvited spectators applaud
They try to see into my soul
Believing that an entrance
Is through the eyes
Winter is in me as cold
Dead fawns are never mourned
Why should I let them in
Where they touched me
I have a burned mark
Afterwards I was scorned
Without the mask I am just
Another dead fawn
That will never be mourned
Flowing wheat in fields
Stifle their movements
As my mask and shadow
Pass their way
Clouds hide the sun
Until stars come out
Even the moon evades me
In the cold of my seasons
That endure all year long
There is no harvest from this planting
Impotent seeds have been placed
Into sterile ground
The soil is cracked
Except dies the cut worms
From lack of stalks
I am poured out onto the earth
For all to see
Under a mask in an expression
Bearing witness to songs
That die within the music
That is seen through my eyes
Into my soul

© 2007 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved

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