My Life, A Masquerade

I wear this mask,

one of many faces;

my own,

never revealed.

It is a horror,

a face born from death.

The mask,

more pleasing.

To see the real me,

means the masquerade is at an end.

Your mind will cringe,

your heart will explode,

and your blood,

runs over my fingers.

I am anyone

and everyone.

Every day is my own Ball,

where death chants music,

and daylight becomes eternal darkness.

I ask you,

dare you see me;

the real me?

Do you dare risk your life,

for the sake of curiosity?

Foolish one.

Say goodbye.