Face of Silence

The eyes behind the mask
Search for direction-
A kindly hand,
Or a sophisticated correction

Fast and obscure,
All the seasons pass
But alas, there is no time
Time for the man behind the mask

He sits and he waits
For solemn redemption
A chance to survive,
But not by contention

Brazen and weathered,
His rough hands foretell
But really, the wrinkles are
A result of saying farewell

The man behind the mask
Will never be seen
But the truth is,
He is really very keen

To know that his memory,
It might never last
But his sight will always remain;
He is the eyes behind the mask.





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