An eclipse right at noon,
Daylight faded in swift.
The whirl of life, haphazardly, spun—
The night came before the shade could lift.
He picked a mask he liked;
Never did he take it off.
Blood changed, adrenaline spiked—
By a stranger, he himself was kicked off.
This stranger lived with a new face;
Some were disturbed by his change.
In every test, he'd ace—
A lock one would never hinge.
He exists still, but not there;
Doesn't care about the world.
Yet thinks himself to be fair,
A repeated mistake too old.
And he shall know
Of the mishaps he conceived.
The melancholic days—a fierce blow;
In no respect was he healed.
That, he knew too, very clear;
His soul had long been tainted to care.
When asked for "the real you"—a sharp spear
On masks of previous spin, could he stare.
One day, a new air—
This stranger was then caught.
He sought an urge he couldn't bear,
Struck by the truthful Failnaught.
Once you start wearing a mask, you lose "you"
When you take the mask off, a question arises—
Is this also a mask?