The Mask

When you see that blank look on my face 

Like that of deserted clay

I am preparing a mask with eyes that you can drink and a mouth that you can lead astray

Though you must never try to take it off for you will find a tear that never quite reaches my eye and learn of a dawn without its sunrise 

Behind the mask is a locked up room of emotions laid out on a motionless floor 

To some they look like broken glass 

But to those who have slid their hands into my darkness, they have found reluctant light to afraid of burning brightly for fear that it won't last

But let me wear my mask and I will tempt pieces of your heart with carousels of silver from my oppressed tongue, take all your rage and anger into my own veins until your numb 

In return, I will ask that you save a kiss for me that says there's no tomorrow

Then slowly pull this knife from me as there's no more time to borrow.  Mark ward